


love you with the lights on

by aimerai, heybernia



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, POV Alternating, classmates to fuckbuddies to friends to lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-07 07:50:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16404302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aimerai/pseuds/aimerai, https://archiveofourown.org/users/heybernia/pseuds/heybernia
Summary: Phil doesn't expect to start hooking up with the cute boy who he keeps poking awake in his 9am, much less fall for him.Jér doesn't know how he lucked into the best hookup of all time, or why he sometimes think it might be nice to hold his hand.





	love you with the lights on

**Author's Note:**

> huge /huge/ thanks to [julia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dannybsdadbod) who made not one, not two, but three (3) playlists for the fic. one for [phil](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7x3VQxHBzLDPYSDocLXakS), one for [jeremy](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2a5PUHL9fxyjaQOl6ORTD8) and one for [phil and jer](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6863PU36AzYnCBBufa1GTq). they're all fantastic and death inducing in various ways and you should give them all a listen. 
> 
> big thank you to the hbb mods for being understanding and for giving us the opportunity to bring this fic to life <3
> 
> title from the song of the same name by morgxn

If we’re going to be honest here, Phil starts poking the cute boy with the curls because he smiled at Phil when he walked into the classroom and took the seat in front of him that first day. Their 9AM isn’t that early, but he always manages to fall asleep like ten minutes into lecture, so Phil pokes him awake when he can, and cute curly-haired boy always looks back at him and smiles at him when he does. Phil’s invested, sometimes at the expense of paying attention in class. Sometimes he ends up actually needing the recorded lectures.

Phil focuses on what the lecturer is explaining, and only glances down every so often at the nest of dark curls in front of him. 

It is possible that he was taking yet another glance when he manages to miss picking up his water bottle completely and knocks it off his desk. 

Phil cringes when it hits the carpet with a thud. He’s squashing down the urge to crawl under his table or out of the window when the bottle is placed back on his desk. Phil blinks at it, and then at the hand retreating back to the cute curly-haired boy. One side of his mouth is quirking up into a smirk. 

“Thanks,” Phil says, practically inaudible, ready to melt. 

The boy smiles. He’s got some stubble to go with his loose curls today. “No problem,” he says, turning back around to the front.

The lecturer is gesturing to a slide that’s different from the last one Phil can remember but Phil doesn’t remember much of what he says, too busy replaying the boy’s voice and his smile in his head. 

*

“How were your classes today, mon ange?” His mother asks on one of their daily calls. 

“They were good,” Phil says. He leans against the wall, curls up with the phone placed against his ear. “It’s not too much work yet.”

“That’s good, but make sure not to overwork yourself when it increases. And enjoy your free time now,” she says.

“I know, Maman, I will.” 

“How’s your roommate?” There’s the sound of stirring in the background and Phil can practically taste his mother’s stew through the speaker.

“He’s nice, Maman,” Phil says. He shifts over again, trying to get comfortable. He just about fits in his bed if he bends his knees up. 

“That’s good. What’s his name again?”

“Thomas.” Even if that’s the one thing Chabs doesn’t like to be called. That was the second thing Chabs said to him, “Call me Chabs, or Thom on fancy occasions, just don’t call me Thomas,” and Phil doesn’t want to get on the bad side of the one person he talks to everyday that’s not his mom, so Chabs it is. 

Speaking of his mother, she says, “Yes, you said that. Is he going to be back soon?”

“No, I think he said he was meeting up with a friend for food.”

“Oh, okay. Dear, I’ve got to go and finish making dinner. Do you want to call tomorrow?”

Phil says, “If you want.”

He can hear his mother making that face over the phone, the one she makes when Phil says clearly nothing. “Is this time still good for you tomorrow?”

“Should be.” It’s not like he’s going to have any plans. 

“Okay, I’ll speak to you tomorrow, mon ange, Message me if anything happens. I love you.”

“Love you too, Maman,” Phil says. He hangs up after his mother says her second and her third love you and stares at the wall and then the ceiling, every surface covered in beige paint that has blue tack stains on it. 

He’s far away from Dieppe, from his parents and his bedroom and all of the places that spark his memories. He’ll get used to it eventually, hopefully he’ll start to enjoy it too. Right now he just feels lonely.

*

Phil is living the college life and it’s kind of what he expected it to be. Lots of classes and lots of typing, napping whenever possible, the constantly losing battle to eat healthy. He’s finding his classes interesting at best, or seemingly easy at least. It’s always taken him a while to make friends, and he hadn’t expected that to change. It’s always been like that for Phil. Finding the right things to say is hard, saying anything can be hard no matter what language Phil is speaking.

And Phil hasn’t told Chabs any of that so it’s not like Chabs dragged him along to this party in someone’s apartment off-campus for that reason. Maybe Chabs didn’t like the fact he came back to Phil watching a montage of funny baseball moments at 3am one time. That could be a reason, Phil supposes. He tries to be a good roommate.

“You’re a nice guy, Phil, you deserve to have fun and to enjoy yourself,” Chabs had said before giving Phil ten minutes to get ready. 

Now, Chabs is nowhere in sight and Phil’s standing awkwardly in the corner, clasping his bottle of beer like a shield. Chabs had introduced him to a couple of people including Mathieu Joseph, who Phil had heard over the music before he saw him, but that was it. Phil’s now entertaining himself with watching the highly competitive game of beer pong going on while sipping his drink. 

Phil squints. The boy currently playing beer pong looks really familiar, but it’s not until he wins and takes off his snapback that Phil realises who it is, and promptly gulps down the rest of his drink. It’s the cute boy who sits, or rather, sleeps, in front of him in his 9am, and his curls are ruffled, and he’s wearing a really fitted shirt, and Phil thinks he might die now. He looks around desperately for Chabs, who might be able to rescue him from the situation of making himself look stupid, and fails, and by the time he looks up again, the cute boy is gone. Phil decides that this is the perfect time to get a refill of his drink instead.

“You’re in my 9am,” someone says. 

Phil turns, and it’s the curly haired boy, and he’s even cuter up close, his entire face flushed and his curls all messy. “I--yeah,” Phil says, and immediately wants to smack himself. He sounds so dumb. “You’re always sleeping.”

The boy smirks. “I took a similar class; it’s all review and I get bored easily. I’m Jer.” 

“Jer?” Phil repeats. 

“It’s short for Jeremy,” Jer says, grinning. He has a gap between his front teeth. He’s so much cuter up close. “How about you? You have a name, or are you just a tall, dark, and handsome stranger?”

Phil knows he’s blushing, but he just got called handsome by a very cute boy. “Phil.”

“It’s nice to finally know your name,” Jer says. “Thanks for always poking me awake.”

“No problem, it’s my pleasure,” Phil says. Safe to say, Phil wants to smack himself again. Jer is still smiling at Phil though, and his eyes are doing this little crinkle at the corners. Phil needs that other drink now. He feels hot all over.

Seemingly hearing Phil’s silent pleas, Chabs appears, announces himself with a flourish and with two drinks in his hand, one of which he gives to Phil.

“Hey Phil, hey Jer,” Chabs says. Phil isn’t surprised that Chabs knows Jer. It would be more surprising if he didn’t.

“Hey,” Jer replies, still looking in Phil’s direction. 

Chabs glances between them, and Phil hasn’t known him for too long, but if Phil did, he would be more sure about what Chabs’ eyes are doing. “I think Jules wants to challenge you to another game of beer pong, Lauz,” he says eventually.

Jer smirks and Phil needs to stop staring at his mouth. “Cool, you going to watch me play again, Phil?” Jer asks, definitely directed at Phil. He runs a hand through his hair before putting his snapback on, backwards again, curls visible through the hole. “Sure,” Phil says. He’s ready to die apparently.

“Cool, cool, I’ll see you at 9am, Phil. Catch you later, Chabshow.” 

Jer takes off, already taking shit before he even reaches the table. Phil takes a long sip of the drink he had forgotten was in his hand. He finishes that one quickly watching Jer bend over while he lines up the shot.

*

The cute curly haired boy who Phil now knows is named Jer is wearing a sweatshirt with the hood up, his curls falling over his face, and blinking sleepily, the next time they have class. Phil's late, somehow sleeping through multiple alarms, but his seat is still there, because Jer put his backpack on top of the desk. Jer smiles at Phil and moves his backpack off and Phil tries not to trip over his feet as he smiles back. It feels like the real beginning of something, stronger than their earlier relationship.

*

Chabs is dragging Phil out to some kind of potluck thing with some of his friends from one of his clubs, Phil isn't sure which one. Chabs says that Phil doesn't have to bring something, since he's bringing wine and alcohol is good enough, but Phil would feel bad. So he makes mac and cheese, perfect and crispy, because pasta-based dishes are easy, and most people like mac and cheese. Chabs even looks impressed at the large casserole but Phil would feel really bad if he didn’t bring something. It’s not a long walk, luckily, and when they get there, Phil thinks he might even recognise some of these faces from the last time Chabs made him come to one of these types of things. 

There’s so much food that they’ve basically set up a buffet, people filling their plates and sitting wherever they can find space, but Phil doesn’t feel comfortable enough with these people to join in, and Chabs must sense that, dragging Phil with him into a small group that includes Mathieu Joseph and Jules and one of the Nic/Nick/Nicos. Phil isn’t sure which one, but he think it’s Nic, because he’s quiet, and he’s pretty sure Nic is the quiet one. Whichever one he is, he makes Phil feel less bad about being quiet, because Phil doesn’t really know these people the way Chabs does. Still, he finds himself scanning the room for a curly haired boy with a cute smirk. 

Nic blinks at him a little after Phil says something in response to a question from Jules. “You’re not from Quebec.”

Phil shakes his head. “New Brunswick. That obvious?”

Nic tilts his hand. “Sorta. It’s okay, my dad lives in Alberta, so same.”

Phil blinks. Nic sounds just as French as most of the Quebecers here. “Alberta?” 

Nic shrugs. “We go every summer. My sister and some of my cousins.” 

“You have a sister?” Phil asks. It shouldn't surprise him; it's more normal to have siblings than to be an only child, but nothing about Nic makes it obvious. Phil can’t even tell whether he’s older or younger. 

Nic’s smiling at him. “She’s too pretty for anyone here.”

“Hey, I’m pretty,” Jules says, butting into the conversation. 

“Absolutely not,” Nic says immediately. “Never.” 

That brings everyone into the conversation, some joining in with Jules, and others with Nic. It’s fun; Phil’s glad he came, even if he stays mostly quiet. He doesn’t know them all well enough to joke around yet, but he has no problem chirping Chabs’ hair, which earns him a play-betrayed look. He’s having fun, and he thinks he’s not supposed to be surprised, but he is.

Later, when everyone is getting dessert while Phil saves their places, he finds a brownie on a napkin suddenly in front of his face. He blinks and looks up and Jer is smiling at him. Phil shouldn’t really be surprised that he’s actually here. “I know you’re the sweetest thing here, but I thought you’d still like to try it.”

Phil’s keeping the napkin away from his face in case it catches on fire. “Thanks,” Phil manages, which might be a more lame response than saying nothing. He takes a bite of the brownie, catches most of the crumbs with his other hand. 

“You made this?” he asks, after he chews and swallows.

“No, I think it was Beau,” Jer says, looking weirdly pleased. “I provide alcohol only, all my cooking skills are limited to date night foods.”

“Of course,” Phil says through a dry throat. It feels like he’s being flirted with, Jer’s eyes bright with just a little bit of mischief. 

Jer tilts his head and smirks a little. “What about you? Do you only cook date night foods, too? Or am I talking to the next Gordon Ramsay?”

Phil swallows, and tries to find an answer, his tongue too big in his mouth. Chabs swoops in like a guardian angel. “Phil, you look like you need a new drink.”

Chabs almost takes out Phil’s eye with the bottle in his hand. Phil leans back and wonders exactly how much Chabs has had to drink. 

Jer is laughing at them, as Chabs pats Phil’s face and apologises. “I think he found the caribou.”

Phil spares one moment to try to keep his face composed, but he’s already failing, trying not to laugh but giggling anyway. “I wonder where you got that idea from.”

Chabs is leaning on Phil kinda a lot. “I’m fine,” he mumbles, muffled.

Phil wraps an arm around Chabs. “You think you can sit down without dying or knocking me out?” 

Chabs is glaring at him. “I take back all the nice things I’ve ever said about you.”

Phil laughs, but helps him sit down anyway, because Chabs is just too large to leave to his own devices when he’s been drinking. He loses control of his limbs, a little, and Phil only lets him use plastic cups for alcohol in their room. By that time, everyone else is back, and Jer is gone. Phil would almost think he imagined it, but there’s still a half eaten brownie by his plate.

*

“Phil, swipe left or swipe right? It’s a guy.”

“Right,” Phil says. He’s at his desk, leaning over the report that he has to turn in in a couple days, while Chabs is lying on his bed, using his free time for the important things.

“Left or right? This one is a guy again.” 

“Left,” Phil says, squinting at the notes. He can read them; it’s the understanding part that’s proving to be tricky. 

“Hmmm, I don’t know about that,” Chabs says.

“Listen to your dick,” Phil says offhandedly.

Chabs makes an understanding noise. “Alright, we’ve got a girl this time.” “Right,” Phil says again, he’ll alternate until he figures this out. 

Suddenly, there’s an ‘ow, fuck’ from behind him, and Chabs is rubbing his face when Phil turns around. Phil is only laughing a little at him, he swears.

“Phil, you need to come here and look at this one,” Chabs says, patting the bed beside him. 

Phil is squinting at Chabs. “Is this better than the one with the guy with the rainbow coming out of his shorts?” “Yes, it is, c’mon,” Chabs insists. Phil lets out a sigh, but he still gets up out of his chair, taking the opportunity to stretch his shoulders before Chabs hands him the phone. Phil’s not sure what he’s expecting but it certainly isn’t what--or who--he’s seeing. 

“So what do you think of Jérémy, 19, with all of the emojis in his bio?” Chabs asks, with a clear shit eating grin. 

Phil swallows. It’s definitely Jer. All of the photos have the ever present smirk and there’s only one that doesn’t have him showing off his curls. There’s a photo of him with a guy where it goes beyond family resemblance how much they look alike, one of him and a group of guys on a boat, one of him that must be from a wedding, and then one that’s been taken beside the pool. Jer is toasting the camera with a pair of sunglasses, a smirk, and without a shirt. His shorts are tiny and pink and have some kind of print, but he can’t stare too long when Chabs is right here. 

“What you thinking Phil? Swipe left? Or swipe right?” Chabs still has that shit eating grin. It’s still on Chabs’ face even after Phil drops his phone on him although Chabs makes a noise of complaint. 

“Whatever you want,” Phil mutters, taking his seat and shaking his head a few times, trying to get his focus back to the report. 

“I swiped right, in case you were wondering, so if you ever want to look at it, just ask,” Chabs mentions a few minutes later. 

“Thanks,” Phil says.

“No problem.” There’s another silence filled with Chabs swiping and Phil trying to stare his report into existence when Chabs says, “You know, I think if you asked him out, he’d say yes.”

“Thanks for the support, Chabs,” Phil says from where he now has his head buried in his arms on the desk. He’ll work on the report tomorrow. He needs a break.

It’s not that Phil doesn’t hook up with people. Phil did before back in Dieppe, and he’s done it a couple of times here at University. Kissed in the darkness with his eyes shut and with graceless hands, they never even last long enough to be called one night stands, and it's not what Phil wants because Phil wants something sappy and real. When Phil lets himself want, he shuts his eyes and thinks of soft lights and gentle sparks.

*

Jer is wearing a blazer to class today. It’s blue, and stretches around his shoulders and makes him look huge. He’s also carrying a styrofoam cup of dirt. Phil has so many questions, and exactly no answers, but it’s almost like he can feel Phil’s confusion, because Jer turns and smiles at him, slightly lopsided. “It’s for my class after this,” he says. 

“You need a cup of dirt?” Phil manages. He’s so confused, and also can’t decide where to look. This is such a change from cozy sweatshirt Jer, and it’s not bad, but Phil isn’t used to it. He might be dying a little.

Jer shrugs a little. “It’s environmental economics.”

Phil’s pretty sure that’s not a 100 or 200 level class. He’s not entirely sure that’s even an option for his major, so Jer is definitely studying something else. “That makes sense, I guess. I didn’t even know that class existed.”

“It’s on the other campus,” Jer says. “A lot of the agriculture classes are.”

“So you’re an agriculture major?” Phil asks. He’s never actually been to the other campus, but he knows vaguely where it is. 

Jer shakes his head. “Agriculture minor, but a lot of the environment or natural resource business and economics classes end up on the other campus. It’s nice, and they’re doing apple picking right now. I was going to get a group together, if you’d want to come?”

“Sure,” Phil says, and hopes he isn't flushing. 

Jer grins. “Great, but I think we're about to start, so details later?” 

He turns back around, and Phil wonders if he's going to fall asleep even in his blazer. He does, and Phil doesn’t know why he hesitates before poking Jer awake, even though it’s for the best that he does, considering that Jer probably won’t want his shirt or blazer wrinkled. He pokes Jer more gently than he should, almost trails his fingers down Jer’s back before stopping himself. His face feels disgustingly hot. 

Jer turns his face to the side just enough that he can see Phil and winks, mouthing a ‘thank you.’ Phil is going to die right here in this stupid Accounting class.

*

Phil is somehow still surprised, when Chabs frowns at his phone on a Sunday morning. Chabs is up early for him for unknown reasons, but Phil is working on a problem set due tomorrow. “Why is Lauz telling me to bring you apple picking?”

“We talked about it,” Phil says. “He says they do it at the other campus?”

Chabs nods. “They do. I didn’t know you saw him outside of anything we went to.”

Phil flushes. “He’s in my 9am,” he mumbles. “Anyway, what did he say?” 

Chabs rolls his eyes. “He wrote something about apple whiskey and Tito and then in all caps, 10:30am at the shuttle or be square. There’s too many emojis.”

Phil snorts a little. He’s not surprised that Jer is an emoji person, even if he mostly remembers it because of his Tinder bio. “Who’s Tito?”

“Oh, Tito works at a bar on the weekends,” Chabs says. “I think he has a Pinterest for alcohol. Him and Jozy went to school together before this--you probably haven’t seen him much, but he brings brownies to every potluck.”

Phil can almost taste the chocolate in his mouth, remembers Jer’s pleased expression. He still has no idea who Tito is, but it’s okay. “So who else is coming?” 

Chabs shrugs. “Fuck if I know. I think he individually messages everyone but if it's something like this, probably he'll keep it small. Not more than fifteen.” 

Phil feels better about that. Crowds aren't really his thing, although it'll hardly be super crowded in an apple orchard. 

“You can come, right?” Chabs asks. 

Phil looks at his problem set. He has only two more questions left, and sure they're multi-part, but it can't be that bad. “Yeah, I think so.” 

“You have an hour to get ready before we have to leave, then,” Chabs says. He's still wearing his pajamas, so he’s probably going to take an entire hour all on his own. 

“I'll just try to get one of these problems done,” Phil mutters, before plunging back into cost-benefit hell. 

Chabs throws his pillow at him as a ten minute reminder, so Phil puts on a warmer sweater and switches his sweats for jeans. He would do something about his hair, but he’s not Chabs, and it’s just apple picking. 

Chabs’ face is doing something that Phil can’t quite read. “You know, I could hate you.” 

Phil rolls his eyes. “Some of us have priorities called schoolwork.”

Chabs shakes his head and makes Phil lock up, just for that. He still waits for Phil, so they make the four block walk to the shuttle together, with Chabs on his phone almost the entire time, and Phil steering him out of the way of people. 

He sees Nic at the shuttle stop first, who looks up and manages an almost-smile, which, for him, is genuine enthusiasm. The rest of the group is people he vaguely recognises, although he thinks he’s only really talked to Jules and Nic. And Jer, of course, who is draining the last of a cup of Tim’s. 

Nic waves him over, so Phil joins him and the dark-haired boy with him. “This is my dad, Danick,” he says, with emphasis on the second syllable. “This is Phil.”

“I’m not your dad,” Danick mumbles, but it’s fond, and familiar, like Chabs sniping at Phil for being such a ‘goody two-shoes.’

“Nic and Danick?” Phil questions, his mouth two steps ahead of his brain. 

They both roll their eyes. It’s eerily symmetrical. “I’m pretty sure that’s the entire reason they made me his brother.”

Phil blinks, because he doesn’t think it works like that, but Nic clears it up. “Frat brother.”

“I didn’t know you were in a frat,” Phil says. 

“We really don’t do much,” Danick says, smiling. “I think someone wants to talk to you.” He waves someone over, from behind Phil, and it shouldn’t be a surprise that it’s Jer, who is wearing a flannel and sweats and a snapback, and looks completely unbothered by the weather. 

“You made it!” Jer says, holding out a fist for Phil to bump. “This is Tito’s only weekend off, and 80% of us are easily bribed by the idea of apple whiskey, so.”

He looks really excited, his cheeks flushed slightly. Phil grins in response, because it’s hard not to, and Jer sounds really glad to have Phil here. “I mean, I didn’t really want to look at my problem set a minute longer.”

“We had a problem set?” Jer asks, looking alarmed.

Phil shakes his head. “No, different class.”

“Don’t scare me like that,” Jer says. “Anyway, the shuttle should be rounding the corner like, now, so I’m stealing you as my seat partner.”

Phil says yes before he realises just how close they’ll be sitting. Somehow, he can’t make himself regret it; Jer a solid wall of warmth at his side. Their group takes over the back of the bus--Phil’s pretty sure Jer sat them right over one of the wheels, because they feel every bounce, and more than once, Jer slides into Phil when the bus turns too sharply. Phil hopes he doesn’t look like he’s blushing too obviously, but he’s not sure, he feels too hot everywhere.

It doesn’t get better once they’re actually there. They all get their bags, pay for them up front, and eventually split into groups, searching for the apples that they want. Phil ends up following Jer and Jules and Chabs, and they don’t even really need a ladder most of the time. Jer, at one point, climbs into a tree, claiming that there’s a really good apple just out of his reach. The apple he ends up picking, while Phil frets below him, does look really good. Jer shines it on his shirt and takes a bite out of it, crunching in satisfaction. 

“Everything you hoped for?” Phil asks, wincing a little as Jer jumps out of the tree. 

Jer nods and offers it to Phil. “I’ll share with you, since you were waiting to be my knight in shining armour if I slipped.”

Phil thinks he’s turning pink, but he takes the apple anyway.

*

There’s only a few days left of the semester when Chabs invites Phil out to go clubbing. An exam de-stresser when all of the exams aren’t even over yet. Chabs doesn't listen to Phil's logic though, and Phil didn’t really want to fight him on it, which is how Phil ends up in a club with Chabs standing tall with an arm slung around his shoulders. It’s fine; Phil only has a paper left to finish anyway.

“Phil, Phil, you see all of those,” Chabs points to the line of jagerbombs. “They’re going to disappear.” There was a side to side hand gesture involved in there somewhere. Phil is somehow only now coming to the realisation that Chabs might be too much of a lightweight, but who is he to stop Chabs from having a good time?

“Okay, Chabs, have fun,” Phil says. Chabs probably can’t hear him over the music, but he still nods and whacks Phil on the shoulder before he moves forward to complete his magic trick. 

Phil isn’t really feeling this too much. He hasn’t had enough drinks, that’s probably part of the problem, but he can’t find that he really wants to. The music, the flashing lights, and the smoke that’s tickling something at the back of Phil’s throat is disorienting enough, and that’s not even getting into the vaguely claustrophobic feeling of being surrounded by so many people who aren’t afraid to just casually touch.

Phil’s considering whether he should tell Chabs he’s gonna bail and go back to the dorm when someone taps him on the shoulder. Phil turns instantly. It takes him a few blinks to realise that it’s Jer in front of him. Phil hasn’t seen him recently in class, and Jer had mentioned something about skipping this class because of review sessions for another one.

“Hey you,” Jer mouths.

“Hey,” Phil replies, already getting distracted by the couple of open buttons on Jer’s shirt. 

Jer moves closer and leans in. “Lookin’ good,” He says, right past Phil’s ear.

“You too,” Phil replies, trying not to think about how close Jer is to him. 

“Things good?” Jer asks.

Phil turns his head so his mouth is almost touching Jer’s ear. “Yeah. You?”

“Same.” 

“You know, it’s hard to miss you.”

Phil nods. Jer is staring at Phil. People brush past them, and knock into them, and Jer keeps on staring at Phil and it’s making things twist inside Phil, up into his mouth.

“I miss looking at you in class,” Phil blurts out. The regret is instant and crushing. 

Jer blinks, opens his mouth a little. Phil decides he’s going to join Chabs in doing shots until he’s unable to stand and remember anything tomorrow.

Before Phil can make his awkward exit, Jer says something else. “You could look at me outside of class,” Jer says, biting his lip. “You could probably see even more if you wanted.”

“What did you say?” Phil asks, through numb lips. Phil knows what he thought Jer said. It just can’t be right.

Jer digs his teeth into his lip. He puts his hands on Phil’s shoulders and leans in again. “I said, if you wanted to, you could see more than what you did in class.” 

So, it was right. Okay, fuck. 

“Yeah,” Phil says, lost for any other words. 

Jer smirks. “C’mon,” Jer says, starting to walk backwards, glancing over his shoulder, Phil following after him until they’re more on the actual dance floor.

This isn’t anything like dancing at homecomings or proms. Jer’s keeping his hands on Phil’s shoulders, thumbs pressing into his collarbones, and Phil puts his hands on Jer’s sides to have something to hold onto. Phil’s not so much moving with the music as much as he’s moving with Jer, who’s moving his head along to the music. Somehow, Phil’s hands end up sliding down until they’re fitting snug around Jer’s hips and Jer closes his eyes, showing off his lashes and his tooth gap. 

That song about taking a pill in Ibiza is bouncing off the walls, making them shake with the noise and Phil’s feet feel shaky too. His grip on Jer’s hips is too tight probably, but Jer doesn’t say anything, continues to move closer and closer to Phil until he’s pressed right up against Phil, breathing into his neck. 

There’s so much Phil wants to touch, wants to say, but he can’t move. Everything else is dancing around him, too many flashing lights that are making it hard to see, the crackling of the speakers as the bass pounds into Phil's ears, or the pounding is the mass on the floor stamping their soles.

Phil’s wrong, the pounding inside his ears is something else. It’s his heart thundering at Jer being flushed against him, at Jer whispering wordless things into Phil’s neck and at Jer moving, Jer moving his body and his hips in ways that are making Phil feel lightheaded, as if he's going to collapse onto the sticky floor.

And as if he can read Phil's mind, Jer at that moment grinds his hips forward into Phil and Jer must be able to feel the noise Phil makes that gets lost under the deafening music. 

Jer does it again, a slow, deliberate, movement, and Phil digs his fingers into where he has a hold of Jer. Jer pulls back from Phil’s neck, Phil’s hands still holding him in place. This time when he moves, Jer’s looking at Phil and he’s close enough that Phil could shift down the tiniest bit and kiss the corner of his smirk. 

For a second, Phil thinks Jer’s going to move to kiss him but Jer leans up and brushes his lips against Phil’s ear instead. “We should take this somewhere more private.”

“Okay,” Phil agrees. 

Jer pulls back out of Phil’s grip, smiling enough to make his eyes crinkle at the edges, grabs Phil by the wrist and pulls him along through the shifting crowd with ease, down the crowded corridors and into the men’s bathroom and into one of the stalls. 

The door shuts behind them. Here, the noise is muffled and faraway and Phil isn’t sure how much of it is just his ears ringing. 

Jer tugs on Phil’s wrist. Here, under the bathroom lights, it’s easy to see how flushed Jer is, how it travels down his neck and how he’s sweating a little bit, enough to make his skin catch the light. 

“Can I?” Jer asks, and Phil nods because otherwise he’ll say something about gorgeous Jer is. He takes a couple of steps forward, and then Jer cupping Phil’s jaw, and then Jer’s mouth is on Phil’s. It starts off slower than Phil thought it would, Jer is the one setting the pace, keeping Phil pressed against the wall, and Phil follows it carefully, not wanting to rush or ruin this. 

Jer moves Phil where he wants with the hand on his jaw, uses his free hand to pull on the collar of Phil’s shirt. Phil puts his hands back on Jer’s hips where they fit so well, he manages to slide his thumbs under Jer’s shirt and strokes the soft skin beneath. Suddenly, Jer nips at Phil’s lip and Phil opens up for Jer, lets Jer lick into his mouth and take over. Jer’s a good kisser, of course he’s a good kisser. 

“You’re so hot,” Jer mutters into his mouth before taking another bite, swallowing any surprised sounds Phil could make. 

All of a sudden, Jer breaks the kiss. Phil is confused and worried that he’s done something wrong but Jer just reaches past him and turns the lock on the bathroom door. 

“Don’t wanna get interrupted when we’ve got important things to do,” Jer explains and Phil doesn’t have a response of any sort lined up because his brain isn’t capable of doing that right now. 

Jer goes back to turning Phil to mush swiftly. He has a hand under Phil’s shirt now, rucking it up to trace across Phil’s stomach.

“I should have asked you earlier, I’ve always wanted to do this,” Jer says. 

“You should have,” Phil says, going back in for another of a taste of Jer’s mouth. 

Phil doesn’t know how long they stand there making out before Jer starts to make these needy noises into Phil’s mouth and search for any friction he can get. It doesn’t feel long enough; Phil’s nowhere near had his fill of making out with Jer, but seeing those little noises slip out of Jer’s mouth, the pleasure clear on his face, is another sort of memorable. 

“Phil, your hand, please.” Jer practically moans and Phil can’t say no to that.

Phil unbuttons Jer’s jeans, which, for future reference, is difficult one handed and when someone is trying to grind against your hand, and reaches down into Jer’s boxers and takes him in hand. Jer lets out this quiet, drawn out whine, buries his face into Phil’s shoulder as Phil starts to stroke him off. 

Phil does his best with the awkward angle and does what he likes to do when he jerks off, twists his wrist a few times, Jer gasping against Phil’s skin the whole time and moving his hips into Phil’s grip, until Phil thumbs Jer’s head which is all it takes for Jer to shudder and come, spurting mostly onto Phil’s hand.

Phil leaves his hand there for a minute while Jer basks in his afterglow, leaning most of his body weight onto Phil. Eventually, Phil pulls his hand out and reaches for the toilet paper to wipe it clean. Jer sighs into Phil’s neck before lifting his head up, smiling and relaxed and Phil has to smile back at him. 

Jer kisses Phil, and Phil returns the kiss, and then in a movement too deliberate like on the dancefloor, Jer shifts his leg in between Phil’s, right into Phil’s hard-on and presses it in when Phil makes a barely hidden gasp. 

“What do you want?” Jer asks. He moves his leg and Phil makes an embarrassing high pitched whine.

“Anything, I don’t mind,” Phil manages, rocking onto Jer’s thigh a little and baring his neck to Jer who mouths at it, then bites hard enough to leave a mark. Phil’s not going to be able to hide that tomorrow and Phil doesn't care right now. 

Phil really wouldn’t mind coming like this, pinned by Jer against the wall. This is already the hottest thing he’s been apart of. 

Jer removes his leg and moves back, creating some space. Phil whimpers at the loss of friction, and then tries not to whimper more as Jer lowers himself down onto one knee and looks up at Phil through his lashes. 

“Can I?” Jer asks, licking his red, slick lips. Kissing Phil did that.

“Yes,” Phil whispers, nodding as well. 

Jer undoes Phil’s belt with quick hands and has his jeans and boxers down to his thighs, before Phil can take it in properly.

He can take in the way Jer’s eyeing up his dick and glancing up to Phil every so often. Jer wraps his hand around him and gives it a few strokes, making Phil’s hips jolt into his grip. Jer looks up to Phil in approval. 

“It’s alright if you move a little,” Jer says, smirking up at Phil. He guides one of Phil’s hands into his hair with his free hand, taking to smiling innocently now. “I can take it.” 

Jer thumbs around the precome on Phil’s head, spreading it around before taking Phil’s head in his mouth. 

“Fuck, Jer,” Phil slips out, trying to resist the urge to fuck into Jer’s wet, warm mouth. Jer glances up and Phil thinks he’d be smiling or smirking if his lips weren’t wrapped around Phil’s dick. Jer starts to move further down, cheeks hollowing, hand moving in tandem. Phil keeps his grip on Jer’s curls tight, he ends up tugging them once when Jer does some movement with his tongue, it makes Jer’s eyes flutter shut and makes the knot of tension at Phil’s spine tighten even more. 

It takes no time at all for Phil to feel the familiar urge building in his gut and in his balls. “Jer,” Phil says with another tug of Jer’s hair.

Jer slides further down in response, glances up to Phil again, and Phil can’t handle anymore so he comes into his free hand to muffle the moan of Jer’s name. He fucks into Jer’s mouth a couple of times while he rides out his orgasm but Jer handles it dutifully like how he handles swallowing. 

Phil’s going to have to wait for his knees to stop feeling like mush before he can move off of the wall. Jer pulls off him and stands back on his feet again. His mouth is so red and used, his curls are a mess from the sweat and having Phil’s hand in them, and Phil’s never seen someone who’s looked better.

Phil doesn’t know who leans into the kiss first, but they’re kissing again. Tasting himself in Jer’s mouth is all kinds of hot unsurprisingly. What is surprising is how soft and gentle it is, Phil could spend days in this bathroom and not notice. 

“My dorm is close,” Phil says when he has to take a break for air. “You can come back if you want.”

Jer blinks. “Will I get to stay the night?” Jer asks.

“Yes,” Phil says. Of course Jer can stay, Jer could stay for as long as he wanted. 

Jer smiles, runs a hand through his curls, makes them even messier. “I’d love to experience your hospitality then.”

*

“Phil.” Then a pause that doesn’t last long enough. “Phil, time to get up, bud.”

Normally, Phil doesn’t mind Thomas waking him up; he’s the most reliable alarm clock Phil has ever had because he doesn’t have a snooze button. Today though, Phil definitely minds, because he’s hungover and doesn’t have a 9am like Chabs does and Phil knows it’s way earlier than he’d like to be awake, or even think about being awake.

“Chabs, fuck off,” Phil groans. He doesn’t even want to be half-awake right now.

Something shifts in the bed and there’s a noise from behind him somewhere between a groan and hmph. Phil can feel whoever’s in bed beside him lifting their head for a few seconds before lying back down, pressing their head into Phil’s shoulder. Their hair is soft against Phil’s skin, and Phil can feel lips pressed to his bare skin. 

“Oh, sorry, man, I didn’t know,” Chabs says, from above. For some reason, Phil is having a hard time believing him. It might be the vague smugness Phil can practically feel radiating off of him.

It doesn’t take long for Chabs to make himself scarce after that. He makes sure to lock the door. The person Phil’s in bed with lifts their head up again and drop it back down in time with their arm wrapping around Phil’s body. 

“I forgot Chabs was your roommate,” Jer whispers. He’s tracing along Phil’s neck, the mark he left last night, proof that contrary to what Phil’s brain might try to think, that last night actually did happen. 

“He’s nice, most of the time,” Phil sighs.

“Good to hear,” Jer says. He stops tracing the mark with his finger, moves onto doing it with his tongue. Phil closes his eyes and lets himself bathe in it, hopes that this is a precursor to a repeat of last night. 

Jer leaves pretty soon after they’re all finished with that round. He puts on all of the clothes he wore the night before that were scattered across the floor while Phil watches him from the bed. Phil thinks he sees a few faint bruises on Jer’s hips before they disappear under the dark material. 

“We should hang out again sometime,” Jer says. “That was fun.”

“Yeah,” Phil says, fiddling with the covers. He wants to ask Jer out--not out out, but like out for lunch or something. 

Jer leaves after saying a short goodbye. The lock of the door clicks again and Phil buries himself under the covers, trying to make them as warm as they were with Jer in them. 

* * * 

It took Jer a solid two minutes to decide he was going to get the hot guy who sits behind him in his 9am and pokes him awake regularly on some sort of flat surface. Or a not so flat surface, Jer can’t say he’s picky about where when it’s a who that looks like that.

It took until December before Jer finally got Phil pressed up against a surface, but it was so worth the wait. Phil and his mouth and his hands were well worth the wait.

“How could you ever think you were straight?” Math questions, interrupting Jer before he could say anything about how good Phil looks doing anything, about how good he would look doing Jer. 

“That’s not important, you don’t need to bring that up anymore,” Jer dismisses. Of course, because Math has been friends with Jer basically since they were actual babies, he doesn’t listen to Jer, because why would he start now. 

“Uh, I think I do, because you, Jeremy Lauzon, are gay as fuck,” Math says. Jer loves his friends. He’s so happy to be back in Val-d’Or and to feel like they haven’t missed a beat, like they’ve not spent the past few months scattered to every corner of Quebec. 

“Thanks for stating a fact,” Jer says. He wouldn’t mind if that cut him a little slack though. 

“A fact that you had to have pointed out to you.” That’s Henny chiming in, even though this conversation didn’t even involve him. 

“I would have gotten there eventually,” Jer argues. 

“You’d have real sore knees before then,” Math states. Henny is nodding in the background, looking smug as shit. 

“Shut up,” Jer knocks into him. 

Henny rolls his eyes. He refrains from bringing up how much Jer has sucked his dick specifically, which Jer appreciates. “So, where were you in your gay ass rambling about the tall guy who sat behind you in class, what’s his name--Paul.”

“It’s Phil,” Jer corrects.

“Yeah, Phil, carry on. You’ve got like four minutes until your time is up.” 

Four minutes is nowhere near enough time to say all of the things he wants to say about Phil but it’s enough time to say most of the PG things probably so that’s what Jer goes with. 

*

Jer doesn’t have any issue with saying he missed being home. University’s great and he’s looking forward to going back, but that’s not going to change the fact that it aches a little deep inside being apart from his family, his siblings and his friends. 

Jer can deal with it though. It won’t be that long before he’s back up again where he fits in perfectly. 

*

Jer got about two days into the winter break before he realised that he should have asked for Phil’s number. He wasn’t joking about them hooking up again. Jer doesn’t joke about stuff like that with people like Phil. 

Jer considers messaging Phil on Facebook but decides against it. Jer will give it a month and if he still hasn’t seen Phil, he’ll resort to Facebook because Phil is worth it. 

Phil isn’t in any of Jer’s classes this semester and Jer doesn’t have any 9ams so not much poking will be needed but he still would have appreciated Phil sitting a seat away from him.

It takes over a week for Jer to bump into Phil again beside one of the water fountains sprinkled throughout the campus. 

Phil is bent over waiting for his bottle to fill up and Jer knows it’s Phil. He can see the chain and Phil has very recognisable shoulders. They’re also very easy to bite, but hopefully only Jer knows about that. 

“Hey Phil,” Jer calls out as he approaches. Phil straightens up and turns to the Jer, confusion clouding his expression before he realises it’s Jer and smiles. Phil has a good, quality smile.

“Hey Jer,” Phil says, turning back to his bottle to make sure it’s close to full before screwing the top on.

“Thanks for the good time last semester,” Jer says, and of all the things Jer missed about Phil, the faint pink that appears across his cheeks is up there. “I should have asked you then for your number but I thought I could just do it now. So, I was wondering if I could have your number, please?”

Phil blinks at him. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Yeah, if you want.”

“Yeah, I want,” Jer reaffirms. He hands his phone over to Phil who inputs his number in quickly and gives Jer’s phone back to him. Jer sends Phil a smiley face as a test and starts to smile himself when he hears the telltale vibration in Phil’s jacket pocket. 

“Thanks a lot,” Jer says. “You had a good break, right?” 

“No problem, and yeah, it was good. Nice to be back home.”

“I feel,” Jer says, and Jer has gotten what he wanted, although now that Phil is in front of him, Jer finds himself wanting more.

“Have you got any more classes today?”

Phil shakes his head. “No, my afternoon one was cancelled.”

“Cool. So do you wanna come back to my place then? It’s only like a twenty minute walk,” Jer asks, chancing his luck. Phil bites his lip and Jer tries to be more convincing. “I want you to.”

Phil blinks. “Yeah, okay,” Phil says, cheeks even more pink.

There’s not much conversation on the way there. Jer doesn’t mind, it’s not really an uncomfortable silence. Him and Phil share a few glances while they’re waiting for lights to change. 

They’re only a few minutes away from Jer’s apartment when the sky starts to spit out snow. 

“Lucky about the snow, huh,” Jer says when they’re in the elevator.

“Yeah,” Phil says.

Jer doesn’t mind that Phil’s pretty quiet. He makes noise when it counts. 

Jer already has his keys in hand when they the elevator stops at their floor. He makes sure to jiggle the door as he turns the key to unlock it which works on the third try. Phil shuts the door behind him and they both remove their jackets.

“So, welcome to my apartment,” Jer says, gesturing with an arm.

To be fair, Jer does know his apartment is more like one huge room that happens to have a kitchen, a sofa, a bathroom and a bed all in it. But it’s Jer’s and it has his stuff and his clothes in it so Jer likes it. 

“It’s cozy,” Phil says before toeing off his shoes at the door.

“You don’t have to do that,” Jer says.

“It’s polite,” Phil says. Jer can’t argue against that even if the things he wants to do to Phil are the very opposite of polite. 

“Do you want something to drink?” Jer asks. He opens the fridge to double check what he’s got in there. “I’ve got water, pineapple juice, and half a bottle of lemonade.”

“I’ll have water, thank you,” Phil says, polite and soft. 

Jer pours him and Phil a mug each because Jer had already broken one glass and he doesn’t want to risk that again. He carries them over to Phil, however, Phil’s hands already have something in them, one of Jer’s photo frames. 

“These are your siblings?” Phil asks, tilting it towards Jer. 

“Yeah, that was from the party for my 18th,” Jer says. “How’d you guess?”

Phil smiles a little, it makes his mouth all lopsided in a good way. “You all look alike. Same sort of face, same smirk.

“The smirk is the official Lauzon seal of approval,” Jer says.

Phil smiles more. “What are their names?” Phil asks. 

Jer points at them in order. “That’s Zach with the dark hair, he’s a year and a half younger than me. He’s studying right now and he’s going to university to study music technology this year. That’s Emile, he plays hockey and there’s a chance he’ll get drafted into juniors, and that’s Amelie, she does dance and gymnastics and doesn’t have to worry about her future yet.”

“Zach, Emile, and Amelie,” Phil echoes, face creased in concentration. He hands the photo frame back to Jer who sits it up properly again. 

“How many siblings do you have?” Jer asks. 

Phil bites his lip. It’s a good enough look to distract Jer. “None,” he says with a weird tone like he’s unsure.

“Oh, none,” Jer repeats.

Phil sounds less confused this time. “Yeah, I’m an only child.”

“Oh,” Jer says. “That must be alright.”

Phil shrugs. “It’s okay. I’ve always liked the idea of having a sibling though.”

“Yeah, it’s good when you get along with them at least,” Jer says. 

Phil nods and Jer sees his chance. Talking to Phil isn’t wasting time but Jer gets impatient when he’s so close to someone he wants that bad. “So would you rather I showed you the bed or the sofa next?”

Phil’s eyes widen, and his cheeks are turning pink again. It’s such a good look. 

“Whichever one is the most comfy,” Phil says, playing along.

“How about we test them both and see?” Jer suggests before he steps forward and leans up to taste Phil’s mouth again. It’s even better than he remembered. 

*

Jer stirs awake from his nap with his head on Phil’s solid chest, Phil sleeping quietly with a steady heartbeat. Trying to keep his movements small, Jer looks up out of the window and is unsurprised to see it snowing pretty heavily now. Phil starts to wake up then, blinking slowly, keeping the hand that’s on Jer’s back there. 

“Do you have anywhere to be?” Jer asks. The sound of the snow is obvious--some of it must be ice.

Phil looks up to the window, showing off his cheekbones. “No.” 

“Well, you can stay if you want until the worst of it is over. We can order takeout and watch something,” Jer suggests. “Actually I think I have leftover takeout from yesterday or I can check what’s in my freezer. There should be stuff in there to eat.”

Phil takes a while to answer. “It’s cool if you don’t want to,” Jer says. It would bother him a little but he’d get over it.

“I want to, I just don’t want to be a bother,” Phil says. 

“You’re not a bother, you’re my guest,” Jer says. “We could watch The Office. The Office is always a good time,” Jer states. 

A suspicious silence follows. 

“I mean, I’ve never seen it so.”

“... Okay we’re going to start fixing that today, time to move to the sofa.”

Phil doesn’t just fit in Jer’s bed, he fits on Jer’s sofa too and Jer is happy he does because company is always a nice thing to have.

*

Having Phil’s number is great. There’s not a constant conversation going like Jer does with the his friends from back home or Zach, but they message every day pretty much even if it’s just Jer sending Phil a meme from The Office or Phil sending Jer links to Bernese dogs on insta. 

Today is light for Jer when it comes to classes, he’s only got morning ones and Jer is pretty sure Phil has the same kind of deal so he sends Phil a message once his final class is finished. 

_yo do u wanna meet up for lunch 2day?_

_theres this deli that has the best soft warm bread n its less than a half hour walk away_

_As friends?_

_ofc_

_we r friends phil_

_this is one of the benefits of being friends with me_

It takes Phil a while to get back to Jer. In reality, it’s about six minutes, but it feels like so much longer than that to Jer’s stomach.

_Okay Jér_

Jer starts to smile down at his phone, pleased he’s going to get lunch and he’s going to see Phil too. 

_gr8 see u there :D_

Phil’s waiting outside the deli when Jer gets there. He’s wearing a black beanie with a red pom-pom on top. 

“I love the beanie,” Jer says in lieu of a greeting.

Phil’s face is already red from the cold but Jer thinks that it gets more red anyway. “Thanks,” Phil says smiling.

“How’d you get here before me?” Jer asks, pushing the door open and letting Phil enter the warmth first.

“Longer legs probably,” Phil says, shrugging. Jer knows what he’s ordering because he always gets the same thing and so he watches Phil take in the menu while they wait in the queue.

“Anything you like the sound of?” Jer asks. 

“Yeah, plenty,” Phil says. “It’s just trying to decide between them.”

“You get anything you want, they let you pick whatever extras you want as well. I always make sure to get extra pickles with mine.”

Suddenly, Phil's face gets all scrunched up, and there’s lines of distaste across his face. 

“Not a fan?” Jer asks, trying not to laugh. 

“No.” The distaste is so clear in Phil's voice too that Jer has to laugh now.

“Picky when it comes to pickles,” Jer says.

“I'm not. Pickles are just--they’re a no-go zone,” Phil says.

“That’s fair, I guess. I mean, I have my preferences, but I'll eat whatever you ask me to.”

Phil opens his mouth to respond but then he must think about what Jer says because he shuts his mouth and starts to turn red again. 

They take a seat at a table near the back and that’s where they stay for the next few hours. Time passes so quickly, Jer only realises when he notices the sunlight starting to disappear outside the window. Jer wouldn’t have minded spending more time with Phil, who bought Jer a piece of the carrot cake and let Jer pinch the raisins off his plate. Phil never fails to make Jer smile. He’s a good guy.

*

Jer’s at the same deli a couple of weeks later waiting for a guy to meet him. The guy is already over half an hour late and there’s been no message, no apology saying that he’ll be there soon, and like, it’s just a guy off Tinder who Jer only swiped on because he had real nice blue eyes and nice hair, but being stood up still kind of sucks. 

Jer clicks on the contact name third from the top and taps away a message to make this not a total waste of time.

_hey r u free_

Phil answers quickly.

_I’m in class for another ten minutes but after that yeah why_

_do u want to meet me at that same deli we went to b4_

_im already here so dw about table or seats_

_Sure I’ll be there asap_

_k see u soon_

It’s still another half an hour until Phil gets there but there still hasn’t been any sign of life from the guy so Jer doesn’t even care. The staff are giving him sad looks from behind the counter, the waitress asks him if he wants another cup of coffee every fifth or so time she goes past his table. Finally, Jer can see Phil appear outside the huge deli window through the lettering. Phil’s inside and over beside Jer before Jer can realise.

“Hi, sorry I took so long,” Phil says, cheeks red and a little out of breath.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” Jer says, already beginning to feel better just by Phil’s presence. 

“Are you hungry? Do you want anything?” Phil asks. 

“No, I’m good, thank you,” Jer says.

Phil looks at Jer’s plate and his half eaten toastie. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah,” Jer says again. He’ll explain later if they get round to it. 

Phil brings his food back with him. Like all of Phil’s emotions, the concern is painted clear on his face and he makes it known before he takes a bite of his food. “Is everything okay?”

Jer shrugs, picking at the remnants of his toastie that has long since gone cold. The temptation there is to lie but doing that to honest, sincere Phil feels wrong. “I guess? I mean, I got stood up, but that sounds dramatic for meeting a guy off Tinder.”

Phil’s concern transforms into something else, something that shifts Phil’s face into a deep seated frown. “Someone stood you up.” Not a question, but a statement.

“Yeah. I mean, it happens to everyone right?”

“I guess,” Phil says, voice tight. “What a fucking prick.”

Jer shrugs again. “It’s okay, I’m pretty much over it.”

Phil isn’t over it though if the way he’s tearing into baguette and is frowning at the table is anything to go by. 

“It happens,” Jer says, in an attempt to undo the tension that’s building around them. “It was just for hooking up anyway, it wasn’t like it was an actual date.”

Sometimes Jer forgets how big Phil actually is, that he’s bigger than Jer in every way, and that if he wanted to, Phil could be scary. Jer finds it hard to imagine Phil being angry or furious, but Phil must be close to it now, closer than Jer can remember seeing. Objectively, it’s pretty extremely hot, but it’s Phil so that’s to be expected, and honestly Jer doesn’t like it.

“Doesn’t matter, Jer. You deserve better than that,” Phil says.

 _I know_ is on the tip of Jer’s tongue but that doesn’t feel like the right thing to say. “Thanks, Phil,” is closer but still not right because Phil is still frowning. Jer changes the subject to Emile’s hattrick at the weekend, and that makes Phil’s face soften back to its normal state again. This is how Jer would like to see Phil from now on. 

“Thanks again,” Jer says out of nowhere. “For caring about my wellbeing.”

Phil swallows. He smiles lopsidedly. Reveals a dimple that Jer never noticed before somehow. “No problem, that’s what friends are for.” 

Jer smiles. He deletes the Tinder app off his phone when he gets back to his apartment. He might download it again when he’s back home for the summer. 

*

Jer likes to think he can enjoy all forms of music. However, whatever music Jules is playing out of his speaker is frankly fucking awful. Jules doesn’t let anyone else pick music because he’s a dick and a dictator, and Jer’s actually touched his dick so he knows better than most.

It’s takes actual hours for there to be a song Jer loved, and by love, makes Jer wanna sing along and dance which he would do if Phil wasn’t pressed right up against him on Jules’ couch, sandwiching him right up against the ugly, once gold now that sort dirty yellow felt-tip markers turn if you mix them with any other colour colour. 

“Phil, I love this song,” Jer says, because Phil has to know what Jer thinks about it. 

Phil is smiling at Jer. “Good thing you liked it, especially because you’re the one who demanded it to be put on.” 

When Phil gets properly smiley like he is now, it shows up on his entire face, his eyes turn into slits and his smile takes up so much of his face, and it’s Jer’s humble opinion that Phil should be that smiley all of the time. 

“It’s a tune Phil, it had to be played,” Jer states.

“If you say so,” Phil says, hiding his smile behind his red solo cup that Jules had bought because he’s such a fucking cliche. 

Jer is about to say something else so that Phil will stop hiding his smile when someone smacks the tip of his snapback and knocks it off his head. Phil’s giggling even though it’s not funny and it almost landed in Jer’s drink. As it is, a few drops of Jer’s drink have sloshed over onto his hand and jeans.

The person standing closest to them is Nic who has his standard resting bitch face on which almost certainly means that he was the culprit. 

Nic must sees Jer glaring at the side of his head because he turns in Jer’s direction. “Hey, Lauz.” It was definitely Nic, his lip is turning like a centimetre which for Nic's face is like a wide grin. “You up for a game of ping pong against me and other Nic?”

“Which Nic?” Jer asks. It’s a valid question, Jer knows too many people who answer to Nic.

“Nic that you knew in high school Nic,” Nic says.

“Oh, Nico Roy” Jer says. 

“Yeah, Nic Roy,” Nic says. He turns around and points to where Nic/Nico Roy is sat in the corner, already smiling and waving a little. 

“Call him Nico, it makes things easier.” Jer puts his snapback on again, backwards this time, because Ash Ketchum knew exactly how to prepare for a battle. “Make it beer pong, and you’ve got a deal.”

Nic and Nico agree on beer pong and Jer goes to push himself up, a hand on the couch and the other ending up on Phil’s solid thigh. 

Jer blinks at his own hand, and then up at Phil who’s blinking back at him, face flushed. 

“Hey, Phil, do you wanna play?” Jer asks. “I don’t need the help to win but it wouldn’t hurt to have you backing me up.”

“As long as you’re sure we’re going to win,” Phil says. 

“We’re definitely going to win,” Jer says, assured. 

As Jer promised, they do win even with them spending the whole game talking about Jer’s logic for which Nic stays as Nic and which Nic becomes Nico. 

Phil’s competitive, it turns out, gets this furrowed, focused expression on his face that Jer likes a lot.

Once they’re finished, Jer takes the seat on the couch again, but this time it’s not Phil who sits beside him, it’s Nico who makes for a lot less appealing sandwich. “So that’s Phil,” Nico says like they hadn’t just played three rounds of beer pong together. 

“Yeah, that’s Phil, Phil’s the best,” Jer says, nodding in Phil’s direction where he’s standing talking to Nic. He takes the drink Nico puts in his hand. 

“How long have you known him?” Nico asks. Nico Roy is good people. Jer appreciates him a lot. 

“Long enough to know he’s the best,” Jer says.

Nico blinks at him, eyes big behind his glasses.“We had a class together,” Jer actually explains.

Nico blinks again, seemingly considering. “Oh, cool, so like did you sit next to each other or?”

“Nah, Phil sat behind me.”

“I see.”

“He would poke me awake whenever I feel asleep.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

From here, Jer can see that Nic and Phil seem to be getting along. Which is great because that means more happy Phil which is very important.

“You’ve got good priorities, Jer.”

“Thanks. He was the main thing I took away from that class,” Jer says because Nico Roy is always honest and he deserves the same from Jer. 

“I got that.” Nico’s face is hidden behind his glasses and Jer’s too busy looking in Phil’s direction to look properly past them. 

Then, the familiar opening bars of "C’est Beau la Bourgeoisie" start to play and Jer is already up and ready to dance, there’s no reason to stay seated now. 

*

_philllllll lunch?_

_I’m in class for the next hour, sorry_

_is chabs in ur room?_

_Probably? I don’t think he has class till two_

_i cn bring takeout to ur room? chinese?_

_You don’t have to_

_wanna. feel like i haven’t seen you much :((_

_Okay :)_

Chabs looks confused when he opens the door. “You know Phil isn't here, right?”

Jer rolls his eyes. “I timed this; he'll be here soon.”

Chabs looks vaguely smug all of a sudden, but he always is, every time Jer has seen him recently. He just always looks like a cat that’s got the cream. It would almost be unnerving, but Phil’s always said nice things about Chabs. “He knows you're coming?”

Jer nods. “I asked him about lunch.”

Chabs looks even more smug. “Did you?” 

Jer has no idea what Chabs is getting at. “He said you’d be in till two. I didn't know what you liked, but I figured chicken would be good?”

“Thanks,” Chabs says, surprised, and leans against the door so Jer can come in and put down the bag of takeout and his backpack. “You have class after this?”

Jer shakes his head. “I have a meeting at 8, to go over a presentation for tomorrow, but this is my lightest day.”

“That explains a lot,” Chabs says absently, pulling out his phone, which is still buzzing, like he's getting a series of texts. 

Jer tries not to blush but he thinks the tips of his ears might be getting pink. He should’ve realised, probably, that Phil’s roommate would pick up on when Phil comes and goes and when it’s class, and when it’s not, but it’s still weird, that Chabs knows about how much time Phil and Jer spend together. It’s just--yeah, Phil is ridiculously hot, but he’s also just fun to be around. Jer takes off his shoes and coat and settles himself in what he’s pretty sure is Phil’s bed, because it’s on the side of the room that Chabs is not in. 

“Make yourself at home, I guess,” Chabs says, raising an eyebrow at Jer. 

“I am,” Jer says, and considers wrapping himself in Phil’s blankets, but that might be overkill. Instead, he fucks around on his phone while waiting for Phil to get back.

It only takes a couple minutes, Phil unwinding a scarf as he steps inside the door. His face is pink and there’s a few snowflakes in his hair. “It’s getting a little slippery outside.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Chabs says, looking up from his notebook. His chopsticks are in his food, already, but then again, he has class soon. 

“Food’s still hot,” Jer says, announcing his presence.

Phil blinks once when he sees Jer in his bed, but continues stripping out of his outer layers. “Hi Jer.”

“Hey, how was class?” Jer asks, scooting over on the bed so there's space for Phil. The bed is narrow but it'll be perfect for cuddles, which Phil looks like he needs. He looks exhausted, and it’s not even that late in the day, but Jer has food and his company, so hopefully Phil will soon look a little less tired.

“It was pretty good,” Phil mumbles, finally climbing into the bed with Jer. “You know you didn't have to, right?” 

“It was my pleasure,” Jer says, and watches Phil turn pink. He grabs them both their food and utensils, and settles in with his shoulder pressed against Phil's to eat. The two of them talk softly about nothing important--upcoming projects and how busy their schedules are getting. Chabs leaves about ten minutes after that, the door clicking shut behind him. Jer lets himself lean into Phil even more, doesn’t even realise that he was kinda tense until Chabs is gone. Chabs is cool and all, but Jer guesses he was worried about it anyway, which is dumb. 

When they’re done eating, it feels as natural as anything, Phil leaning in to kiss Jer. It starts off soft, and it’s not as desperate, the two of them trading kisses back and forth. Jer is full, and comfortable, and doesn’t have a problem with their slow pace. Jer knows he’s good at making out, he would put it on his applications to things if he was allowed, and more importantly, he know Phil likes making out with him, so he’s kinda expecting this to be more than it is, but this is nice too, lingering kisses and Phil cradling his jaw, and Jer feeling every kiss with every part of his body.

Or it is nice, until Phil breaks away and yawns, politely doing it away from Jer’s face. “Sorry, I’m just, really tired, and--”

“Nah, it’s cool, you can nap,” Jer says. Phil had been struggling to keep his eyes open, but Jer had figured it was just a kissing thing. “Want me to wake you up in a bit?”

“Are you sure you won’t be bored?” Phil asks, blinking sleepily at him. Jer wants to run his fingers through Phil’s hair and doesn’t. 

“I have my phone,” Jer says, smiling at Phil. 

“Thanks,” Phil murmurs, and lays down, his head right by Jer’s hip, once Jer’s repositioned himself with his back against the headboard. “Wake me up in like thirty minutes, and we can continue where we left off?”

“Sure,” Jer says, and does ruffle Phil’s hair a bit, because Phil makes a face, but is too tired to protest. He’s cute, and Jer really does mean to wake him up in a bit, but suddenly, all of Jer’s energy and buzz melts away, and leave Jer feeling overwhelming tired. 

He’ll just rest his eyes for a few minutes and then leave before Chabs gets back. He doesn’t mean to fall asleep for good, but he’s comfortable and warm, and Phil is there, so it feels sort of inevitable. 

*

“I want you to fuck me,” Jer announces, after they finish their episode of The Office.

“Like now?” Phil asks, blinking confusedly. 

Jer laughs. “Yeah, like now, once I’ve been prepped,” Jer says.

Jer leans in, watches Phil turn pinker. “You can do it if you want?” 

“No, I’m good,” Phil says, distant. 

“Suit yourself,” Jer says, and then smirks. “I’ll make sure to put on a real good show, then. To the bed.”

His nightstand which is really his dresser has a box of condoms and of lube, and he can see the question in Phil’s face already. “Safety is important, Philippe. Nah, the condoms are there all the time, the lube is for special occasions only.” 

Special occasions may be more of a weekly thing but Phil doesn’t need to know what Jer keeps in his bottom drawer just yet. The toys can be brought out another time.

Right now, Jer is happy enough to squeeze the lube onto his fingers, rub them together to spread it around and warm it up, and then reach down, sighing when the first fingertip slips in.

Jer’s got a lot of practise doing this, knows how to twist his fingers to make his toes curl, and watching Phil watch him is delightful in its own way, Phil’s eyes dark as he bites his lower lip.

“Like what you’re seeing,” Jer says, too breathy to be a question.

Phil nods, his eyes flickering back to Jer’s fingers and then back to his face. 

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” Jer admits, biting down on his lip as he fucks himself open, enjoys the pleasant stretch. “Thought about you fucking me, about how good you’d feel inside me, holding me open.”

Jer takes it slower than he normally would, too enamored with the slack jawed look on Phil’s face to want to rush but even Jer reaches his limit to how long he can hold out. 

“Want to get inside me?” Jer asks, maybe exaggerates the breathiness of his voice, and Phil is so eager he’s a little clumsy getting himself ready and lined up. 

He pushes in achingly slowly, and stays there. Jer doesn’t get bored waiting for Phil to gather himself, he’s appreciating the stretch and the feel of Phil inside him, but the thought occurs to him, and Jer doesn’t have a filter at the best of times, never mind now, so he asks Phil, “Have you ever fucked a guy before?” 

Phil shakes his head, the movement jittery. Jer takes Phil in, the way he’s gone back to chewing his lip, the gold chain hanging off his neck and the muscles tense under his skin. The thought in Jer’s head grows, takes root in his brain stem. “Have you fucked anyone before?” 

Jer is doing his best to keep still and not rock back or clench or flip Phil over and ride his cock until Jer is satisfied and they’re both spent. He might start to shift a little though. Enough to settle the lick of desire in his gut.

Again, Phil shakes his head, this time accompanying it with a soft no.

Oh. Jer--is really into that, actually. “You can move if you’re ready to,” he says softly, lays a hand on Phil’s shoulder. 

Phil thrusts slowly, lets Jer really feel him, and blinks at him.

“That was good, Phil, yeah,” Jer says, encouragingly.

Phil does it again, just as slow as the first, lets out this low groan that has Jer moaning in response. 

“Yes, fuck, you feel good,” Jer says, running his hands around Phil’s chest and shoulders before splaying them both across the wide, broad expanse of Phil’s back, and leaning up to kiss Phil, missing his mouth, catching his cheek instead, but Phil turn over to meet Jer and let Jer slip noises into Phil’s mouth as Phil continues to fuck into him, slow and steady. 

Phil is doing so good, looks incredible with those couple curls falling onto his forehead and the furrowed expression on his face, but Jer needs more, wants Phil to give it to him until Jer’s completely boneless. “You can go faster,” Jer tells Phil who pauses in his movements. Jer hooks his ankle around Phil’s back. “I’ll tell you if anything’s wrong, I promise.” Phil could probably make Jer promise anything while he’s got his dick inside Jer and is making all of Jer’s wires criss-cross and short circuit.

Phil is nodding but still hasn’t moved yet, and Jer starts to rock back, the pleas building up in his throat. “Phil, c’mon, move,” Jer whines, totally unashamed. “Phil, c’mon, fuck me please.”

Finally, finally, Phil fucks into Jer again, meets Jer’s twist of his hips before he pulls out and slams into Jer again, managing this time to hit that spot that makes Jer’s back arch and a gasp fall out of Jer’s mouth. “Fuck, that’s it, yeah. Do it again,” Jer demands, feeling another shock of pleasure when Phil does exactly what Jer wants. Jer digs his nails into Phil’s shoulders, holding on as Phil starts to speed up, getting more confident with every thrust.

“Jer, you’re so--god,” Phil moans. Phil’s panting now instead of chewing his lip or making little noises, and so Jer decides to bite it for him, encourages him by digging his nails in harder, moves with Phil as much as he can, as Phil brings him closer and closer.

Jer’s already on edge from fingering himself extra slow to show off, because Phil’s face had been something to look at, and just barely manages to gasp out a warning and stroke himself a couple of times before coming all over his stomach and hand. Phil fucks him through it, slow but deep, and Jer would definitely call it up there for good orgasms. 

“You can keep fucking me,” he tells Phil, because he can take it, and Phil is being so, so good. 

“You’re sure?” Phil asks hesitantly. 

“Yeah,” Jer says, and Phil looks him over for a minute before getting back to it, and Jer can’t do more than cling to Phil, pleasure zipping up his spine. He can’t come again, but he’s still enjoying it, and encourages Phil, pushing back into it and clenching around him, Phil’s thrusts getting sloppy and messy.

“You’re so much better than my fingers or toys, you’re so good Phil,” Jer says, because in that moment it’s the truth, and Phil only manages a couple more shallow thrusts before he shudders and comes, his face twisted away from Jer.

Afterwards, there are clear marks on Phil’s shoulders, closer to scratches than marks. They look incredible standing against Phil’s flushed skin and Jer’s gut is twisting with pride because that was him, it was him who put them there.

Jer traces up and down Phil’s spine while Phil sleeps and waits for Phil to wake up so they can go again. Or so they can watch another episode of The Office. Jer doesn’t mind as long as it’s with Phil. 

* * *

Phil survived his first year of college relatively unharmed. Good grades, a few good friends, and some good times to look back on, which is pretty much everything Phil could have wanted.

He’s ignoring the elephant in the room which isn’t Jer, Jer’s not the problem, it’s Phil’s feelings for Jer.

Jer's ears must have been burning because Phil’s phone flashes with a message from the problem himself and it’s literally just Jer telling Phil to message him when Phil gets off his plane, but it still makes Phil’s face heat up. 

Him and Jer had been messaging. Jer had already driven down, because he can do that, while Phil has to fly into Montreal. They’d been messaging throughout the summer, and sometimes, right before Phil would go to sleep in the early hours of the morning, he’d get drunk selfies from Jer, Jer with his friends and his brother. Jer still looked as good as ever, better even, tanned and beautiful. Phil wondered who else Jer sent those too before closing the app. 

Jer had messaged Phil asking if Phil wanted to be roomies next year because there were two bedroom places going in Jer’s building. Good thing Phil didn’t have the chance to consider it because he had already agreed to room with Chabs again this year. That would have been a terrible decision. An awful decision. The worst sort of decision Phil could make.

Phil leans his head against the window during his flight. There’s not enough time to sleep and too much to think. 

He opens the text thread with Jer once he has all of his luggage in hand, Jer's final message at the top. 

_message me when u arrive_

_That’s me off the plane_

_!!!!! how was ur flight_

_Fine_

_gd i cant wait to see u_

_ru doing anything today??_

Phil knows where this is going. Exactly where this is going.

_Not really I just need to unpack my things_

_k do u want to come over then_

_get reacquainted with my place ;)_

Phil knows where this is going and if he doesn’t want to fall deeper into his feelings, if he doesn’t want to keep on digging himself a hole that he won’t be able to climb out of, he needs to start putting distance between him and Jer. Jer’s winky face doesn’t change no matter how long Phil looks at it.

_As long as you’ve got food_

_food will be here b4 ur_

Phil needs to start detaching himself and he’s going to. But, Jer is now his friend outside of beds so Phil is still going to meet him and catch up with him in person. It’s the right thing to do. 

From the very second the door to Jer’s apartment opens and Phil is faced with the full force of Jer in person again, his smirk and his curls and the way his eyes seem to sparkle almost at the corners, Phil is absolutely and categorically fucked. 

This is not helped by Jer asking Phil to fuck him again. Over the summer, Phil revisited the memories of the first time he’d been inside Jer more than he would ever admit, although that counted for every single time Phil had hooked up with Jer to be honest, thought about Jer hot and tight around him and moving with him in the shower where the water would hide any noises Phil could make, and now Phil has more memories to add those times. He takes note of Jer’s lashes fluttering in time with Phil’s thrusts, the smell of his shampoo when Phil brushes his curls, and the pout of his lips as Jer lets out little ahs. 

By the time, Phil gets back to his dorm, it’s dark and Chabs is there now, lying on his bed. They’re in a different room but they’re sticking to the same sides as last year. 

“Hey, Phil.” Chabs says, turning Phil’s name into a trill. “Good to see you again and know you’ve not evaporated or been taken hostage by aliens.”

“Hi Chabs,” Phil says before promptly falling face first onto his bed and burying his face in his pillow. 

He can hear Chabs sit up. “Shouldn’t you put your sheets on first?” 

Phil makes a noise in response, wraps his arms under the pillow to hold it closer. 

“Classes haven’t even started yet, Phil. What’s up, you literally got here today?”

Phil lets out this long sigh.

“It’s Jer,” Phil admits.

Phil turns his head so he can see Chabs giving him a ‘well, duh’ face. It doesn’t make Phil feel any better. 

“I kind of guessed that’s where you were,” Chabs says, which again doesn’t make Phil feel better.

“He asked me to go see him,” Phil says. 

“Yeah,” Chabs says.

“Yeah, he’s just, ugh.” Phil turns his head back into the pillow and squeezes it tighter to against him, tempted to try and scream his feelings out. 

Chabs pats Phil on the back.

“I know,” Chabs says. “I’m here for you, Phil. If you ever have more to say.”

Phil does have more to say about Jer. Phil always has a lot to say about Jer. He could fill up pages with words about Jer. That’s the problem, Phil has too much to say, and Jer probably doesn’t want to listen to any of it. 

*

Phil doesn’t ever mean to start making out with Jer. Like the time in the club and the first few times they met up after that were definitely hook-ups so making out was expected.

Now, though, they’ll be studying or in the middle of watching a TV show or be talking about something else, and between one beat and the next, Jer will suddenly give Phil a look through his lashes, blink a few times and smirk and that’s all it takes for the embers inside Phil’s gut to catch fire. 

This time, they had been studying in Phil's bedroom, paper scattered across the bed and a couple of piles on the floor, and Jer stopped looking at his own work and started glancing at Phil's on his lap. It became clear pretty quickly it wasn't Phil's mind maps Jer was interested in despite how he complimented Phil on his choice of colours and shapes. 

That's how they ending up kissing on Phil’s bed, still dressed, with Jer on top of Phil, pressing him down into the mattress, licking into Phil’s mouth and guiding him with a hand in Phil's hair. Phil has his hands up Jer’s shirt, feeling up the familiar planes of muscle. He tugs at the bottom of Jer’s shirt, and Jer must get the message because he sits up, lifts his arms over his head and pulls his shirt off in one go, revealing all of his tanned, golden skin and exposing the pale lines of his hips sticking out over his boxers. Every inch of Jer is demanding that Phil touch it, put his mouth on it, and Phil wants to take the time to do that. 

Right when Phil says Jer’s name, the door swings open and Phil can’t see who it is; he only knows it’s Chabs because of the too loud, “Fuck Phil!” that he says before slamming the door shut, making sure to turn the lock. 

Jer is looking over his shoulder, letting Phil look at his profile and the line of his jaw. “That is what I’m trying to do, thanks Chabs,” he calls through the door.

“Jer, please,” Phil says, biting back a giggle. “You’re awful.” 

Jer turns back to Phil, already smirking. “Yeah, but you’re into it.”

Phil’s phone goes off on the desk, vibrating loud enough to move, and interrupts Phil’s train of thought that was probably something like 'yeah but I can't admit that.'

Jer sighs, clearly annoyed, and picks it up before Phil can move. “You'd think Chabs would leave us to it now." 

“How do you know my password?” Phil asks, not feeling all that surprised that Jer knows it. 

“It’s your mom and dad’s birthdays,” Jer says simply. His eyes scan the message, then do it again. 

“Chabs said in the future you need to send him a text or put a sock on the door or hook up at my place.” Jer’s thumbs move quickly across the screen and Phil doesn’t feel the need to stop him; he’s maybe enjoying watching shirtless Jer and his collarbones in his lap a lot. 

Satisfied with whatever he typed, clear by the mischievous smile across Jer’s face, Jer locks the phone and slides it across the bedside table.

“What did you send him?” Phil asks, even though Jer starts to lower himself down, determined to get back to where they were.

“That we can’t put a sock on the door when we both still have our socks on because we haven’t gotten to that point yet,” Jer says, moving to kiss up Phil’s jaw and his hand back into Phil's hair, tugging at the short strands. 

“Next time, socks off first,” Phil manages as Jer starts to turn him to putty in his hands. 

“Next time, yeah.” Jer giggles into Phil’s neck and Phil tries not to die, saves that for when Jer pushes him over the edge. 

*

Phil's mother has started to ask how Jeremy is. She asks how Phil is doing, how’s Phil’s classes are, and then once or twice a week she’ll ask how Jer’s doing. Phil doesn't know when that started or why.

Phil had shown his mother how to facetime over the summer which she was very pleased with. She still hasn’t figured out to angle it properly but Phil will let her figure that out in her own time. 

Phil’s in the middle of speaking about the presentation brief he was given today when there’s a couple of knocks at the door. 

“Were you expecting someone?” His mother asks. Her confused expression mirrors Phil’s own. 

“No,” Phil says. “I’ll be right back, Maman.” He mutes the mic and carries the phone with him as he answers the door. Jer was already smiling when Phil pulled open the door, showing off the gap between his teeth and his eyes crinkles. 

“Hey, I bought you pastries,” Jer says, letting himself inside. "You free to have a study date?" 

“Uhm, thanks for the cakes,” Phil says, face already hot. “I’m sorry, can you wait a minute? I’m in the middle of talking to my mom.” Phil holds the phone up so Jer can see it. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Jer says, genuinely apologetic. “I can go outside if you want.”

“No, it’s okay. You don’t have to go.” Phil’s mother says it before Phil can. Phil lifts up his phone and finds his mom blinking at him. Turns out Phil must have missed the mute button. This is fine. Jer said study date and Phil's mother can't know what Jer actually means by that. Everything is fine. 

His mother says, “It’s nice to meet you, Jeremy. Good to put a face to the name.” She’s smiling and Phil is staring at the little box which mostly has Jer’s face in it right now. 

“It’s good to meet you too,” Jer says, blushing; his red nose is so cute.

Phil's mother looks between the both of them, smiling happily. “Enjoy your cakes, you two. Goodbye, Jeremy. Love you, mon ange,” his mother says. Phil’s not embarrassed that his mom loves him so he's not sure why his cheeks feel hot anyway. 

“Bye,” Jer says, and when Phil hangs up, he says, “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” Phil says, focused on sending a text to his mother about organizing their next call. 

“Was something up?” Jer asks, sounding a little concerned.

“No, we just try and talk as much as we can,” Phil admits. Doesn’t admit that he tries to call every day, or at least text.

Jer’s face goes soft. “That’s sweet,” he says, and that’s right--Jer’s lockscreen is him with his siblings, and it’s absolutely adorable. 

“Thanks,” Phil says.

“No problem,” Jer says. “You know what else is going to be sweet? The pastries I bought.” 

“You’d know,” Phil says, noticing the crumbs on the corner of Jer’s mouth. Phil taps the side of his own mouth, impressed that he managed to resist the urge to thumb it away or lick it away himself. 

Jer blinks at him, looking as innocent as he isn’t. “I had to try them before I brought them to you, you know? Make sure they were good enough.”

"Yeah, I know," Phil says, distracted by Jer licking all around his lips. 

*

Phil doesn’t know. Phil doesn’t know anything. He knows nothing, Jer--he shows Phil off on social media, he pays for Phil's food, he likes to lie down on Phil's chest while Phil pets his curls, mostly the ones on the back of his head which are always going off in whatever direction they want, and Phil has an idea of what that should mean, what him and Jer should be, but in reality, he doesn't know anything.

Phil knows nothing about what Jer's feelings are and because of that he knows nothing about what he means to Jer. 

Please, Phil thinks, don't let this hole he's in get any deeper. Let him start to climb out of it before he digs himself down any further. 

*

It’s weird to think that Phil’s only really started to know Jer this year. It feels like so much longer than that, longer than the class they had together during their first semester of college, like him and Jer go way back. 

They don’t, and there’s so much that Phil doesn’t know about Jer, and Phil is reminded of this at certain points of time. Such as right now, because it turns out that Jer is really into Thanksgiving, into it enough to stop running his hand up and down Phil’s thigh. Jer still ends up drooling practically, just about Thanksgiving meals and not Phil’s dick. 

“God, Phil, I can’t wait for all of the food. My mom’s stuffing is so good. I’ll try and bring you back some, but I doubt it’s gonna last that long.” Jer glances up to the side like he’s staring at his own thought bubble of mouth watering food.

“And all of my cousins are going to be there too, one of them plays hockey at college, she’s so good, Phil. It’s going to be such a fucking mess, it always is, but in like the best way possible.” 

Jer breathes finally. “What’s Thanksgiving going to be like at yours?” Jer asks, changing the subject and Phil feels a knot form in his stomach. 

“I’m not going back to Dieppe for Thanksgiving,” Phil says, helplessly, because Jer is so excited about it, and it’s so cute, but it’s not something he can do, going all the way home for three days. 

Jer blinks at him. “You're not?” 

“I can't,” Phil says. “Going all that way for that little time, especially when I still have schoolwork?”

“So then what are you doing for Thanksgiving?” Jer asks, his entire body turned around now to face Phil. 

“I don’t actually have any plans,” Phil says. “I was just going to veg out and order in.”

Jer’s face drops, and then he nods to himself a little and gets a familiar stubborn look on his face. “You’re coming home with me.” 

Then, apparently realising how rude that had sounded, too much like an order, his face softens slightly. “Please?”

“I can’t just show up to your family Thanksgiving,” Phil says helplessly, because god help him, he really wants to.

Jer looks genuinely upset. “Yes, you can. I’ll call my mother; I know she won’t mind if I tell her you had nowhere to go. I’ll do it right now; we always have extra food, and no one will mind because you’re you, and I like you, and I was going to drive there anyway--”

He’s already reaching for his phone, Phil realises, distantly, but his ears are burning, Jer's ‘I like you’ echoing in his brain. That hole he’s been digging is getting even deeper, but Jer is calling his mother, eyes bright. After the obligatory hellos and how are yous he immediately launches into a long-winded explanation of how Phil doesn’t have anywhere to go for Thanksgiving, and they always have enough room, and it’s not like the drive will be any different than Jer making it alone so could he please, please bring Phil? Phil’s not even sure how Jer is breathing, when he’s talking so fast, but from the way Jer is beaming, Jer’s mother must have said yes.

So that’s how Phil ends up at the Lauzon family’s Thanksgiving. There are so many people here, and he can see Jer’s face in a lot of them, his siblings especially. He knew that from the pictures, but it’s something completely different when he’s seeing them in person, because they even have similar mannerisms.

They were one of the last people to arrive, not because it takes that long to travel out to the outskirts of Montreal, but because Jer took a long time getting his hair and stubble right. Honestly, it kind of looks like Jer just got up out of bed and put on a shirt and a cardigan; there’s a few curls sticking to the side of Jer’s forehead and a dusting of stubble around the line of his jaw.

Jer makes it work though, of course, much to Phil’s dismay.

The greetings start before they even get inside. A few people are standing outside, talking and smoking, and their faces break into smiles as soon as they notice Jer. They shake Phil’s hand once they’re done doing quick catch-ups with Jer and Jer introduces him as his friend from college. Everyone they meet makes sure to greet Jer and give him a handshake, a hug, a kiss or some combination of all of the above.

Phil gets handshakes and smiles from most of them. Jer’s mother gives him a hug, tells him she’s so glad that Jeremy invited him so he wouldn’t have to be alone for Thanksgiving, and Jer’s grandmother makes Phil bend down so she could give him a kiss on the cheek.

She says something to Jer that Phil doesn’t hear exactly over all of the other voices but it makes Jer flush this vibrant red.

“My grandma loves you already,” Jer says, right before he gets swamped by a wave of children, probably his little cousins.

It’s probably a good thing that Phil doesn't end up having to say anything to that. Phil watches Jer make time for each and everyone of his cousins who are yelling over each other to go with the hustle and bustle that’s floating through the background. 

Floaty is how Phil feels, in the way he doesn’t feel like he’s totally here sort of way. There’s this kind of discomfort building up. Phil doesn’t belong here, he’s not meant to be here, and that would be okay if Phil wasn’t feeling it, and it’s nothing against Jer’s family, they’re not excluding him. It’s just Phil, Phil and the awkward and the anxious twisting inside him.

Phil wants to say that he’s not hiding in the spare bedroom beside all of the jackets and hats but that’s definitely what he’s doing. He’s only planning to be in here for a minute or two to catch up on a couple of messages and until things have calmed down. 

It must have been longer than a couple of minutes though because eventually the door pushes open and Phil looks up to see Jer and the light from outside coming in.

“Did you get roped into playing hide and seek?” Jer asks, trying to smile a little.

Phil shakes his head. There’s not any point in trying to hide it, Phil doesn’t have the energy for that.

“You feeling okay?” Jer asks, taking a seat on the bed beside Phil.

Phil shrugs. He doesn’t really know what to say, it’s embarrassing to think about Jer looking for him for no real reason. 

Jer shifts over until his thigh is touching Phil’s. “I’m sorry, it must be pretty overwhelming for you, right? This many kids and people in one house. I probably should have given you more warning.”

“It’s okay,” Phil says. “I just needed a little break.”

Jer nods but he still has this concerned line in between his brow.

“You don’t have to stay,” Jer says. “I can get you an Uber.”

Phil thinks if he was at anyone else’s Thanksgiving, he would leave, feign an excuse or maybe let Jer make one for him. This is Jer’s family though, and it is a lot for Phil to handle, all of the new people and all of the French, but he wants to try. 

“No, I’ll stay,” Phil says.

Jer bites his lip a little. “You don’t have to force yourself to. It’s okay if you wanna go.

It’s a lot that Jer seems to understand, that he doesn’t seem to judge Phil. “I know, but I don’t wanna leave yet. I like-- your family, I want to get to know them more. It’s just a lot right now.”

Jer lets go of his lip, lets it stretch into a smile, and there’s something in the air that’s making Phil’s palms feel sweaty. He could say it now, that he likes Jer instead of copping out again. 

Phil licks his lips, catches Jer glancing down at the movement, and barely opens his mouth before the door slams open, making Phil jump and Jer swear. 

“Found you!” It’s one of Jer’s little cousins, little as in she probably barely reaches Phil’s knee. She stands there, hands on her hips and glares at them. “Jay-Jay, you’re not meant to hide with other people.”

“I know, I know,” Jer says, sounding serious. “But have you found everyone else yet?” 

She shakes her head, her plaits whipping about her head. “Well, you better go do that now then if you want to win.”

“Okay,” she says. She leaves the door open as she runs off, Jer’s smiling after her as he tells her to be careful about the rug at the top of the stairs. It’s all too cute. “Jay-Jay?” Phil repeats. 

Jer shrugs. “Jeremy can be a hard thing to say.” Thinking about this is making Phil’s brain want to shut down.

Jer gets up then and holds out a hand for Phil. “You coming? The food will be ready soon and it’s a case of first come, first served here.” 

“Yeah, I’m hungry now.” Phil takes Jer’s hand, lets it go, and makes a promise to himself that he will say something soon.

* * * 

Jer doesn’t realise he’s coming down with a cold until he wakes up on Sunday morning feeling like he’s been hit by a truck, which if he had been, he at least wouldn’t have to be studying for midterms or finishing essays. Everything hurts, and the first thing he does, before even eating, is downing as much cough syrup as he thinks he can get away with, and taking cold medicine, because if he feels this bad waking up, he’s going to feel a lot worse in a couple of hours.

It doesn’t matter whether Jer caught it from one of his relatives at Thanksgiving or if it’s been during the few days since he’s been back at college, it still feels like death either way. 

By the time the clocks say it’s now afternoon, the only things Jer have done are suffer and typed some words that probably don’t make any sense at all. Being sick sucks so much. It sucks even when Jer has someone to take care of him and being on his own makes it suck even more as a result. Everything he needs should be in walking distance but all of it feels so far away, none of it really worth getting up out of bed for. 

Jer opens the message app on his phone and types one away and sends it, and then thinks about what he just did. He gets a response quickly. 

_phil im dying_

_Everything ok?_

_no im dying_

_????_

_i have the cold the cold to end all colds coldzilla_

_Oh_

_it’s king cold_

_no cing cold_

_OK Jer_

_Have you taken medicine and been drinking water_

_yea_

_theyre not really helping with the dying thing :(_

It’s taking Phil longer to answer, like going into double digit seconds, and Jer’s lost his filter somewhere, and his head is too sore to think, and that’s why he sends the following message.

_i want cuddles :((((_

Like Jer does want cuddles _badly_. He wants to be in a blanket mountain with another person inside and only emerge when he has more than 20% function of his nostrils but Jer feels like there’s a reason he shouldn’t have sent that to Phil. He just can’t think what it is. 

_Do you want me to bring you anything_

_urself_

_and like lozenges and more cold medicine plzz_

_also some kind of soup not mushroom_

_OK see you soon :)_

Jer blinks at his phone. He’s not sure when he’ll see Phil or if he’ll see him before he dies. Jer wants to because, well, Phil, but it depends on the death again. 

Better to think about blanket mountain than Jer’s inevitable death, Jer thinks. Blanket mountain was a good idea so Jer gathers every single blanket he can find and makes said blanket mountain on the couch. It’s like Space Mountain, except it’s not going to make Jer regret eating two hot dogs before he got in the queue. 

Michael Scott and a blanket mountain are distractions from not really being able to breathe properly. He sleeps on and off, mostly off to be honest. Vaguely, he can remember having this weird dream about being a mouse and being trapped in what was an ordinary sized house but it had like tiny furniture. 

There’s the sound of knocking and it takes Jer a minute to realise that it’s not coming from the TV but it’s someone’s knocking on his door. Jer groans and forces himself up, keeping his favourite blanket wrapped around him tight. It’s the one Phil usually uses when he comes over, and it still kinda smells like him, so Jer wraps it around himself even tighter. He’ll look like death anyway so might as well complete the look. 

“I’m death,” Jer says immediately, before he even has the door pulled all the way open. 

“No, you’re Jer.” Which is true. Another thing that’s true is that Phil is standing in Jer’s doorframe. 

“You’re here,” Jer says. 

Phil pulls the corners of his lips in. “Yeah, I did tell you I was coming.”

“You did,” Jer repeats. “That makes sense now. Thanks for telling me. Thanks for coming.”

“No problem,” Phil says, eyeing Jer up like he’s about to fall over which might actually happen.

“I’m gonna sit back down now.” Jer plops back down on the couch followed closely by Phil. 

“What hurts?” Phil asks, placing his cool hand on Jer’s forehead. 

Jer leans into Phil’s hand and sighs. “Everything,” he says.

Phil doesn’t make fun of him. “Can you eat now?”

“Yeah,” Jer says, and now that Phil’s mentioned food, he feels ravenous.

Phil smiles a little. “I brought tomato basil and grilled cheese.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” Jer says.

Despite Jer’s stomach demanding food just a few minutes, when it’s plated up in front of him, the need has suddenly disappeared, leaving Jer feeling nothing and frowning at his food. Jer soldiers on though, takes mouthful after mouthful of the soup, he can’t fully appreciate the taste but it goes down easy enough. 

“You should probably be in bed,” Phil tells him when Jer’s finished the soup. He’s been tidying up Jer’s apartment, put away the dishes from yesterday that Jer never got around to doing. 

"You didn't have to clean," Jer points out. 

Phil smiles at Jer, oddly fond. It's something Jer would still be able to appreciate the taste of, he thinks, Phil's smile that is. "I wanted to, but I still think you should be in bed. 

"You always want me in bed, don't you, Phil?" Flirting is always a viable option when it comes to Phil, and Jer is sure Phil's blushing now. 

"Just go to bed, Jer, you're sick," Phil tell him. 

“But I wanna watch the Office,” Jer says, as aware as he can be about how whiny he sounds.

“You have a laptop. You can watch it in bed.” That’s a good point but Jer doesn’t care about that.

“But it’s not the same as on TV. Also I don’t want to fuck about with my laptop on the bed.”

“You can just put it on a chair.”

Jer grumbles. I don’t want to move.” Jer is distantly aware he’s being a baby but he really doesn’t want to get up. 

“You will be more comfy in your bed,” Phil says, steady and still smiling at Jer. 

“My bed would be more comfy if you were in it,” Jer mumbles into the top of his blanket. Phil must have heard him though because he makes an oh expression with his face and says, “I can do that.” 

Jer should take it back. It’s not like he can return the favour in the ways he normally can but Phil doesn’t seem to mind at all. He helps Jer up, and walks him over to the bed, and wiggles his way under Jer’s blanket too, maneuvers them so Jer ends up using Phil’s chest as a surprisingly comfortable pillow. Not really surprising, Phil is soft all over, not just on the inside.

“You’re gonna get it too,” Jer mumbles into Phil’s chest, sniffling. 

Phil is busy rubbing Jer’s back. “You’ve probably already given it to me because of like incubation periods.”

Jer is going to argue more but Phil keeps on rubbing patterns into Jer’s shoulders and he’s real warm. It is really easy to fall asleep, and to tuck his face into Phil’s chest.

*

Unsurprisingly Phil does end up getting sick. It takes a couple of days for Jer to sleep it off, by which point Phil has started to suffer from it too. Jer apologises but Phil just shrugs it off after each sneeze. He’s probably like an actual angel; Jer isn’t sure how they ended up friends.

Zach calls him a couple of days after that, while Jer is making chicken noodle soup to take for Phil, who seems to be mostly over his cold, but Jer’s not taking any chances, especially when the only reason Phil’s sick is because of him. He’s not really someone who cooks; he can make all of four actual adult meals, and like, date foods, and mostly lives off of takeout and any food that requires minimal prep. Jer puts the phone on speaker on the counter, and continues focusing on the soup. He’s making his grandmother’s recipe, which he had to beg her for, until he’d mentioned it was for Phil, who his grandmother recognised as ‘the nice young man that Jer brought home with him at Thanksgiving.’ 

“You were sick?” Zach says, without even a hello. 

“Hi Zach, good to hear from you too, I’m doing great,” Jer says dryly. 

“Hi Jer, good to see university hasn’t made you less of a dick,” Zach says, wholly unimpressed. “What’s this I heard about you being sick?”

Jer stirs the soup. It’s starting to boil, so he can probably add the vegetables soon. “I had a friend check in on me; it’s fine, I’m pretty much fine now.”

Zach snorts. “Please, we all know you’re a fucking monster to deal with when you’re sick. Your friend would have to be a saint.”

Jer’s distracted making sure the soup doesn’t boil over, and that’s why he doesn’t self-edit. “Phil looked after me.”

“Looked after you,” Zach echoes. “Phil? Like the guy with the cheekbones in all your Insta posts Phil? Who you brought to Thanksgiving?”

“Yeah,” Jer says, distracted, dropping all the chopped vegetables into the pot. “He came over with like cough medicine and stuff. And watched reruns of The Office with me. He makes a really good heater.” 

It’s silent for long enough that Jer’s afraid the call might have dropped. 

“Husband him,” Zach says, finally.

“What,” Jer manages. He feels like he’s been punched in the stomach.

“Dude, you’re the grumpiest fuck in the world when you’re sick, and you’re telling me your friend-with-benefits checked up on you, cuddled you, and didn’t mind dealing with you whining constantly while you were all snot-nosed,” Zach says, which is all technically true. “And don’t say you didn’t whine, because you do.”

“But that’s just how Phil is,” Jer says. His cheeks feel hot, and it’s not just from the steam rising up from the soup. “He’s nice like that.”

“Lock him up,” Zach says. “I’m dead serious, lock him up right now. He’s a saint or a fucking angel for dealing with you. He’s literally prime husband material for this alone, and he’s pretty, and he thinks you’re worth it, for some fucking reason.”

Jer doesn’t know what to say to that so he says nothing. Gives the soup his full attention instead to make sure it doesn’t boil over. 

Zach doesn’t get it. Phil is just like that, it doesn’t mean that Jer wants to date Phil. Jer likes Phil, likes him a lot, but that’s because Phil’s his friend. There’s not really anything else to it. 

*

Jer hasn’t seen Phil in a couple of days and Jer isn’t pouting about it. Well, he is, but he’s also _worried_ , because Phil mumbled something about Jer being distracting and told him to go away, but it’s been two days and Jer hasn’t really heard from Phil, and that’s never happened before. Like, they’re barely even texting, and Jer is used to seeing Phil almost every day, never mind the texting. So maybe aggressively hunting down Chabs to ask him what’s wrong with Phil isn’t the best idea, but it’s not like Jer has any better options, even if he’s pretty sure he scared a group of wide-eyed, caffeine-jittery freshman. They’ll get over it; Phil is more important anyway.

“He’s in a study spiral,” Chabs tells him, looking almost sympathetic. “He’s really freaking out about exams.” 

“How bad is ‘really freaking out?’” Jer asks, biting his lip. Nothing about this is making him worry any less.

Chabs winces, and Jer already knows he’s going to hate the answer. “About half an hour ago, he flopped onto the bed and muttered something about flunking out and going back home to become a fisherman? I’m not entirely sure; he was talking into the pillow.”

Jer blinks and tries to parse that statement. “He doesn't even like to fish,” he says faintly, which isn’t even what he should be focusing on, but it’s true.

“Do you...want my key?” Chabs asks, after a long pause.

“Yeah,” Jer says, without hesitation. “Please? He hasn’t been talking to me, and I’m worried.”

Chabs blinks a little, and nothing about his face changes, but something about the way his eyes crinkled slightly makes Jer think he’s being laughed at. “I’ll make myself scarce,” Chabs says, fishing out his keys from his backpack. “I was already planning to spend all day at the library, so if you two could be semi-decent when I’m back?”

Jer smirks. “No promises.”

“You suck, Lauz,” Chabs says, but he still gives Jer his keys. 

Jer shrugs. “I mean, sometimes, yeah.”

Chabs blinks and then glares. “You’re a menace and I hate you.”

“Everyone says that,” Jer says.

Chabs is shaking his head and mumbles something to himself before he leaves.

Jer’s not bothered about what it was, he needs to go see Phil because that’s so much more urgent. Urgent enough that Jer doesn't make any stops for food or treats and just goes straight to the door instead.

Jer turns the key and lets himself into Phil and Chabs’ room as quietly as he can. This was the right thing to do because Phil is still where Chabs said he was, face down on his bed, sleeping into his pillow.

Jer walks over, winces at how even in sleep, Phil’s face looks tight with stress. There's the small urge inside Jer to try and thumb them away, but it's small enough for Jer to ignore it.

Jer’s thinking about leaving since he knows that Phil is still alive and Phil really looks like he could do with the sleep when Phil blinks awake. Phil makes this sleepy huh noise in Jer’s direction, his face a mixture of confusion, half-asleep and disbelief.

“Jer?”

“Yeah, it’s just me. Chabs gave me his key,” Jer says.

“Why?” Phil asks, sounding more confused now.

“Because I was worried about you." Phil's eyes go wide and Jer doesn't know why exactly, but he tries to make the next part sounds more understanding because Jer does care about Phil and Phil should know that."You stopped talking to me, and I went to speak to Chabs and he said you said something about going back home to become a fishermen when you don’t even like fishing and I just, like, had to check up on you and make sure you were okay.”

Phil’s blushing now and biting his lip, fidgets with the sheets a little in his hands." “I’m sorry for making you worry,” he says, guilty and small. 

“It’s okay," Jer says, because he doesn't mind being just tell me for definite in the future if you need space or not. I understand if you’ve actually got work to get done and don’t want to end up getting --distracted,” Jer says. 

“I will,” Phil says.

“Seal it with a pinky promise,” Jer says, because he wants to see Phil smile again, it’s been days since he last did. 

It works a little bit, one side of Phil’s face is trying to smile at Jer holding his pinky out. Phil lifts up his pinky and wraps it around Jer’s.

“I promise,” Phil says, soft and smiling, and all of Jer’s worry falls away completely. 

*

Jer comes home from his second-to-last exam to find Phil sitting on his sofa in a blanket burrito, grumpily slurping noodles from a bowl. He doesn’t know how he knows it’s grumpy, it just is. “Is everything okay?”

“I brought Thai,” Phil says, pointing to the takeout boxes on the kitchen counter. “I got you the green chicken curry you like.” 

“Thanks,” Jer says. Phil didn't answer the question at all, which means something is probably wrong. 

“Also, you should lock your door more.” 

“I was running late to my exam,” Jer admits, finding the box of curry. It's still pretty hot, so he doesn't bother emptying it into a bowl, just wipes the outside edge of the container after he takes the lid off. 

He wonders if he should make cocoa or mulled cider or something, because Phil looks stressed even though he finished all his exams and just has half a paper left, but settles for sitting right next to Phil on the couch, where Phil is watching--actually, Jer's not sure what Phil is watching. 

“Thanks for lunch,” Jer says, rests his head on Phil's shoulder for a few seconds, until Phil relaxes a little. 

“My pleasure,” Phil says, and softens just a little more. “You wanna go to the dessert place later and get lava cakes?” 

Jer has another final in two days, and most of a lab report, but Phil still feels tense. “Can I buy?” 

“You can try,” Phil says. Jer glances at Phil from the corner of his eye, and Phil looks a little calmer now, but his brows are furrowed. 

“I will,” Jer promises, digging into his food. “What are we watching?”

Phil blinks a little. “I’m not actually sure. There’s desserts.”

“Have you just been zoning out on the screen while eating?” Jer asks. 

Phil shrugs, and jabs his fork into a piece of meat just a little too hard. So, yes, probably. Jer leaves Phil alone for the moment and digs into his food, which is really fucking good. But once he’s done eating, and they’ve made it through another episode of what Jer thinks might be some kind of baking show but with kids, he focuses on Phil again.

“What’s wrong?” he asks gently.

Phil glares at the tv screen, but he doesn’t have any more food to stab. “Dustin from my study group is blaming me for our grade on a group project.”

“Is everyone else blaming you?” Jer asks. He’s angry, but trying to hide it, because Phil works so fucking hard. Phil is going to graduate summa cum laude, probably, because he works hard, and he’s good at it, and there’s no way it’s so bad a grade that it’s unsalvageable. 

“One of them might,” Phil says, picking at the blanket.“The rest didn’t say anything, but like, it’s still one of the best grades in the class. I just feel like they all hate me, and I definitely have classes with some of them next semester.”

Jer would like to fight the entirety of Phil’s project group, because like, what the fuck. “Okay, that’s it, it’s chocolate time, because otherwise, I’m going to fight someone.”

Phil manages a smile, but it’s shaky. “Okay.”

Chocolate, and then maybe kisses if Phil still looks sad, because Phil shouldn’t be allowed to be sad, at all, like, ever. It should be against the law, because Phil is just too good. Phil deserves better than this, Phil deserves the world. 

* * * 

Christmas has always been one of Phil’s favourite times of years. They’re never huge, extravagant events because his family is nowhere near big enough for that. Instead, they’re homely and quiet in a way that makes Phil feel settled and content. 

That homely feeling hits Phil from the second he lands back in Dieppe. He misses it always, misses it everyday. 

He might miss it less when he’s next to Jer but that’s that.

It took his mother until a few days before Christmas to ask about Jer. “How’s Jeremy?”

Phil’s trying to take the skin off the potato and not his finger. “He’s good.”

“You said he’s spending Christmas at home with his family?” 

“Yeah, his brother’s coming back from University as well.”

His mother nods out of the corner of his eye. “That’s nice,” She says.

“Yeah,” Phil says, focusing on peeling the potato. “Jer loves his family, especially his siblings, so he was really excited to go back.”

“That’s sweet, dear." His mother could have stop talking there but she keeps on going. "Well, make sure you tell him he’s very welcome to come here for Christmas next year.”

Phil almost drops the peeler. He does drop the veggie he’s holding and loses it in the pile of potato skins in the sink. 

His mother doesn’t mention Phil’s mishap, instead she says, “He seems like a lovely young man and me and your father would love to meet him, and it would lbe the right thing to do after he took you to his family’s Thanksgiving.”

Phil’s face-- he’s not sure what his face is doing apart from how it’s burning hot and not doing what Phil wants it to. 

“You want me to ask Jer to Christmas?” Phil repeats.

His mother gives him this face that means something along the lines of I love you and I’d love it if you listened to me. Phil’s father is on the receiving end of it a lot. “Of course, mon ange. We’re happy for you. It’s clear how happy he makes you.” 

Phil can feel his heart in his throat. He already knows he’s blushing uncontrollably, and that his mother is going to read it as confirmation.

It just all hits too close to Phil. 

*

A few days after Christmas and before Phil has gotten sick of turkey soup and turkey sandwiches, Phil’s phone vibrates, and he blinks, trying his hardest not to smile when he sees that it’s Jer. He unlocks his phone, and opens the text thread to see that Jer’s sent him a photo. His cheeks and nose are bright red, but he’s wearing the matching beanie and scarf that Phil had snuck into his luggage as his Christmas gift. It looks really good on him, actually. 

“What are you smiling at?” Phil’s mother asks. 

“Jer liked his Christmas present,” Phil says proudly, because he is proud, and Jer looks really cute in it. 

“What did you get him?” his mother asks.

Phil turns his phone to show her the photo. “The hat and scarf,” he mumbles, suddenly shy. 

His mother smiles approvingly. “They’re lovely, mon ange. I’m sure Jeremy loves them.”

The smile on his mother’s face then starts to shift down. “Did he not get you anything? There wasn’t anything under the tree.

“We didn’t say we were getting each other presents,” Phil says, rushing to make an excuse for him. “Jer said that he’d bring something back from Val-D’or with him. 

His mother seems to buy his excuse. “Well, I hope he gets you something as nice as you got him.” 

Phil really should have just told his mother the truth, that him and Jer aren’t dating and that Phil only got Jer a present because Phil is so far gone for him, but getting to pretend that him and Jer are dating, that Phil gets to call Jer his boyfriend and tell him how much Phil feels for him, makes the part of Phil that he normally tries to ignore happy so he goes along with. It’s easy to pretend here in Dieppe, far away from Quebec. 

*

Thoughts about Jer as his boyfriend stick with Phil on the journey back to Quebec. They stay there when Jer’s the first person Phil messages when he’s off the plane, when Jer is the first person he sees because Chabs won’t be back in for another few days, and when Jer hands Phil over Phil’s Christmas present. 

“I hope you like it,” Jer says. “Sorry, it was late.”

“Thanks, Jer.” It’s a box for sure, but it’s not that heavy. The wrapping paper is a light blue color and covered in adorably drawn huskies who are wearing hats and scarfs. “I like the wrapping paper, it’s cute.” 

That makes Jer smile. “I thought you like it.”

Phil feels sort of bad about tearing the wrapping paper but Jer used like a billion bit of tape so Phil has to tear it apart to see what’s inside.

It’s a pair of headphones, proper ones you put over your head. They’re black with grey detail if the photo on the box is anything to go by and they certainly don’t look cheap.

“Jer, thanks, thanks a lot but I think this is too much.”

Jer shakes his head. “No, it’s not. You’re always breaking your earphones so I thought this would save you the trouble,” Jer says with no room for argument. “No take backsies on Christmas presents.”

Phil sighs. “Thanks, Jer,” he repeats. “I love the look of them.”

Jer smiles and even if it’s too much, it makes Jer look like that so Phil can deal with it. 

“You don’t need to get me anything for my birthday then,” Phil says.

Jer blinks a few times.

“Your birthday at the end of January right? The 25th?”

Phil nods. 

“Okay, I won’t get you anything that costs that much money, I swear,” Jer states with a smirk that has Phil suspicious but he has to take Jer at his word. 

“My cousins were disappointed you weren't at Christmas or New Year, by the way,” Jer says apropos of nothing. 

“Oh, which ones?” Phil asks.

“Like all of them. All of the younger ones for sure,” Jer explains which isn’t an explanation at all. 

“They’ve only meet me once,” Phil says.

“Your charm works quickly,” Jer says. “Trust me, I’d know.”

Phil blushes, and Jer smiles and says some more things that are leaning to the flirty side, and that’s all Phil remembers from this conversation. 

*

Christmas break seems far away now that Phil’s back into the swing of college things. Time is fake and Phil doesn’t bother keeping track of it really.

Just when Phil is about to start thinking about what he should have for lunch and whether he has any paella left in the fridge when there’s a knock on his door. 

Phil shouldn’t be surprised that the knock on his door is Jer, but he is anyway. Jer’s holding onto a couple of plastic bags. “Happy early birthday; we’re going to celebrate in style, I brought you lunch.”

“Thank you,” Phil says. He forgot it was coming up, and it makes it even more that Jer remembered, because Jer is grinning, eyes sparkling, looking really genuinely excited to have lunch with Phil.

“I bought you birthday cupcakes too,” Jer says with a flourish.

“Thanks,” Phil manages, brain still scrambled. 

“It’s my pleasure,” Jer replies. 

They have lunch on Phil’s bed and start on the cupcakes, but the whole time, Jer is smirking. To Phil, he looks like he’s hiding something but he couldn’t have snuck another present in with him so Phil has no clue what to expect.

“Do you wanna sit on my face?” Jer asks out of nowhere, a half-eaten cupcake in his hand.

“Jesus fucking christ,” is all Phil can say.

“You could sit on my face and then on my lap,” Jer carries on, same casual tone, like he’s suggesting what show they should watch next. “If you wanted to, of course, it’s your birthday and it would be your birthday sex after all.”

So this was Jer’s plan the whole time, Jesus. “Jer, fuck, you can’t say things like that when it’s like 1pm.”

Jer shrugs. “It’s your birthday, I’d have been saying stuff like that since nine if we didn’t have classes.”

“God, fuck, you’re so--” Phil kisses Jer, has to do it before he says something stupid that he won’t be able to take back. 

“So is that a yes to both?” Jer asks, sounding and looking so eager that it goes straight to Phil’s dick.

Phil nods, not trusting his voice, and goes back to kissing Jer, kisses that start heated and end up edging closer to desperate, the two of them grinding together under the top sheet. 

“So are you going to sit on me or not?” Jer asks suddenly, somehow being bossy about getting Phil’s ass on his face. “Like we do have all day but I’m not waiting until then. The quicker we do this, the quicker I get to fuck you.”

“I thought it was my birthday,” Phil says, like he’s not into Jer taking charge and not into every single thing Jer suggests.

“It is,” Jer says. “That’s why I want you to have the best time possible.” Jer smiles at Phil sweetly and not even the fact the next words out of Jer’s mouth are, “And in my opinion the best time possible involves me eating your ass,” are enough to make Phil stop thinking about it. 

They maneuver into the correct positions after that, Jer flat on his back with his head below the the pillows and Phil straddling Jer’s chest. 

“Keep your hand on the headboard or the wall,” Jer mentions as Phil moves forward and Phil’s brain is already down the rabbit hole about why Jer would know that. Phil’s not really sitting on Jer’s face, he’s more holding himself above it but he’s still close enough for Jer to wrap his arms around Phil to get a grip of him. 

Jer’s scattering of stubble is enough to make Phil shiver while he takes the time to presses kisses to the insides of Phil’s thighs. Contrary to Jer’s impatience earlier, he’s taking it slow now, focused more on making the anticipation build in Phil’s gut, on making Phil squirm. 

“By the way, you don’t have to sit still, you can ride my face if you want,” Jer says, and Phil doesn’t get a chance to respond or reply before Jer’s pulling Phil in that final bit and his cheeks apart, pressing a kiss to Phil’s rim, causing Phil to jolt and bite down a whimper.

Jer is still moving slow, flicks his tongue across Phil’s hole teasingly. Phil feels himself getting more wound up despite the soothing circles Jer’s thumb is pressing into Phil’s skin. He can’t decide whether he wants more or less, but Jer makes Phil’s mind up for him, licks these small, quick circles around that set off sparks inside Phil’s spine and these hitching gasps out of his throat. 

Phil is barely aware that he’s pushing his knees further apart, lowering himself further down, closer to Jer’s tongue. Jer squeezes one of Phil’s cheeks which Phil thinks must be a sign of approval. Phil’s dick is already fully hard, flushed red and leaking a little. Phil moans Jer's name which earns him another suck, another swirl around his hole. 

The last time Jer ate him out, Phil could hide his face in the pillow and sheets, muffle all of the humiliating, high pitched noises that fell out of his mouth because of Jer’s incessant tongue. There’s nowhere for Phil to hide now. Biting down on his lip can only do so much and Phil’s long gone past the point where it’s useful, where it can stand a chance against Jer opening Phil up on his tongue until Phil is loose and wet and moaning for Jer.

“Jer, Jer, please.” Phil doesn’t even know what he’s begging for. Phil is sure he hears Jer hums, feels it before Jer starts to tap Phil’s thigh. Blearily, Phil thinks that Jer must be wanting Phil off him but when he goes to move, Jer’s iron grip keeps him in place, lets Phil’s hips only move enough to end up grinding on Jer’s tongue. 

“Jer, what--” It’s meant to be a question, but it’s too whiny for that because Phil’s hips are still working down, the pleasure unbelievable, unbearable. Phil squeezes his thighs tight around Jer’s head, involuntary, and Jer moans, takes one of his hands off Phil’s ass and Phil can hear the telltale signs of Jer getting himself off over his own wanton noises. 

Phil’s so close, close enough it feels like he’s gonna come any second, and as much as he wants to come just from Jer’s tongue, he doesn’t think he can so Phil grips his own dick, tearing his hand away from where it was digging into the meat of his thigh, and strokes himself in time with his rocking movements on Jer’s face. 

The static builds and builds inside Phil’s spine. Then, Jer slips his tongue inside Phil and Phil comes instantly, hole fluttering around the foreign sensation, moaning wetly as he jerks himself through it, some of his come splattering across the headboard. Jer continue to lick into him until Phil’s legs get too shaky, unable to handle the over-stimulation anymore.

Phil moves down off Jer’s face, goes back to sitting on Jer’s chest so he gets to see how red Jer’s face is now, how slick his lips are. 

For the orgasm Jer just gave Phil, Jer deserves so much more than what Phil has the energy to give him, but Jer seems content with fucking into Phil’s mouth and coming down Phil’s throat. A few drops of come drip onto Phil’s lips when Jer pulls out but Phil licks them away and makes Jer groan in the process. 

Jer pulls at Phil, and Phil goes easily, climbs up the bed despite the unsteadiness in his joints, motivated by the knowledge that he’s gonna taste himself in Jer’s mouth. 

"So did you enjoy that then?" Jer asks before they kiss. 

"What do you think?" Phil asks. He feels loose and relaxed, happy to have Jer in his bed.

Jer smirks, kisses Phil instead of answering. "I'd say that was one of the best birthday presents you'll receive today." 

"The cupcakes were pretty great," Phil says, instead of something dumb about how Jer is the one best birthday presents he could receive.

Jer was smiling but he's back to smirking again, hands low on Phil's back. "They were. They'll probably end up being at the bottom though, below all of the sex."

Phil remembers that thing Jer said about they'll have all day together and feels his heartbeat quicken. "What about Chabs?" Phil questions, because asking if Jer intends to spend all day in Phil's bed with him is too much.

Jer moves his hands down a little further. "I told him he should probably give your room a wide breadth and that basically, there's gonna be a sock on the door until tomorrow."

Jer looks so pleased with himself, and Phil lets himself want this stupid, ridiculous boy, lets himself kiss Jer and be swept into it.

“Do you want to wait more, or can I finger you?” Jer asks, because he’s shameless. Phil is into it, though. 

Phil thinks about it, and he thinks he’s good. He nods, and Jer makes a pleased noise. “You wanna lie on your stomach or your back?”

“My stomach,” Phil says. “I want you to see how well you’ve opened me up already.”

Jer lets out this almost silent fuck that has Phil’s gut twisting in satisfaction. 

The next fuck Jer says isn’t anywhere near as quiet, Jer says quite a few of them in fact as Phil settles on his stomach, ass high up in the air. 

Phil waits for Jer to ask for lube, but that never comes.

“You bought your own lube?” Phil asks.

“Of course,” Jer says, leaving silence for the sound of lube being squeezed out of the bottle.

Phil starts laughing at Jer’s ridiculousness. It's making all of these soft feelings build up in his chest. His laughing gets cut off, replaced by the soft gasp at the first push of Jer’s finger inside him, so easy because of how loose Phil is from Jer’s tongue. 

Jer is very talented at using his fingers. Phil has seen what Jer can do to himself while he's opening himself so many times, and it doesn’t take Jer long to reduce Phil to a mess as well, a drooling mess, moaning into the pillow, fucking his hips back trying to get Jer’s two fingers deeper inside him. Every so often, Jer brushes against that spot and Phil lets out a cry into the pillow every time. 

“Look at you, sucking up my fingers, fucking you is going to feel so good--you’re already so good for me," Jer says. Whenever Jer talks during sex, it kills Phil, gets him going like nothing else.

This time, Phil comes from a twist of Jer’s fingers and humping down onto the mattress, his come pulsing onto the sheets below. There's the quiet sounds of Jer jerking himself of, his breathy noises, and then the splash of his come on Phil’s ass, down Phil’s thighs. Phil’s probably going to need a whole new bed after this. never mind just a new set of sheets.

Jer gets up to get a washcloth and Phil stays where he is, laying in his own come. It smells like sweat and sex, mostly, but there's also the familiar hint of Jer on the pillow, his deodorant and shampoo. 

Phil can't see him but he's sure that Jer is shaking his head when he comes back. "Phil, you could have moved." Words are still beyond Phil a little, so he says nothing. Lets out a few soft sighs as Jer cleans up the mess he made of Phil, moves Phil over so he can clean up the sheets as best he can and promptly drops the washcloth on the floor. 

There's still an obvious wet spot Phil can feel, but he finds he doesn't really care, not when he gets to mostly lie on Jer.

"You really did a number on your headboard," Jer notes. Phil doesn't even bother glancing up.

"Your fault," Phil says, shifting so he's more comfortable.

"I know." Jer sounds like he's smiling and he is when Phil looks up, makes Phil smile return.

Phil dozes for a little bit with his head on Jer’s chest and Jer’s hand in his hair. It’s still no time at all basically before Jer is asking Phil to go again, his hand petting down Phil’s nape while he does so. “You ready for a hat-trick of orgasms, Phil?”

Phil’s dick is making a valiant attempt to get hard again but. “I don’t think I can, not so soon.” 

Jer smirks. He keeps on moving his hand down Phil’s back and his spine. “Oh you can, I’m sure you can.”

“Jer--” Phil has to cut himself off when Jer dips his hand in between Phil’s cheeks and drags his thumb over his hole.

“Jer,” Phil whimpers as Jer slides a finger past the rim of Phil’s loose hole.

“You feel ready to me,” Jer says, curling his finger before sliding it in and out. “Maybe you could do with a little more prep though just to get you that little bit more wet and ready.” 

Jer pours more lube onto his fingers, into Phil’s hole, there’s the sensation of it leaking out around Jer’s fingers as Jer continues to fuck him, drawing out the embarrassing sort of ah-ing moans. 

"Jer, Jer, I'm ready, please, ah," Phil says. That gets Jer to pull his fingers out and produce a condom seemingly out of nowhere. Phil slides it on for Jer, relishes in the way Jer's hips hitch up into his hand. He lets Jer get himself lubed while Phil braces his knees on either side of Jer's hips. 

Jer's holding the base of his dick, biting his lip. "Ready when you are."

Phil's not ready, probably wouldn't be for the rest of the day. His knees are still weak from his previous two orgasms and every jolt of pleasure feels like it's going to be the one that makes Phil slip, that makes Phil admit something to Jer that he wouldn't ever be able to take back. Still, Phil lifts himself up, feels Jer's head slip inside before sliding all the way down in one movement.

Even if Phil doesn’t end up coming, having Jer inside him feels good. Having Jer underneath him, so red everywhere Phil can see and staring up at Phil with dark eyes, drinking him in makes Phil feel even better. Phil has been fucked by Jer before. It's not something new for him, being stretched around Jer's dick, but it's not something that happens often. Jer normally asks Phil to fuck him and Phil wouldn't ever say no to that. Phil wouldn't say no to anything Jer would ask of him, to be honest.

"Phil, can I move?" Jer asks after a minute.

"Uh-huh," Phil says, trying to shift his hips to find an even better angle. 

Jer starts to fuck up into him, begins this steady rhythm that is making the molten liquid heat up again in Phil's stomach.

"You like that?" Jer asks, hands on Phil's hips, holding him in place for Jer's thrusts.

Phil nods. He tries to start moving in time with Jer's thrusts but Jer holds him in place, keeps fucking Phil at that leisurely pace. 

"Jer," Phil says on a gasp. "Jer, you can--go faster." 

Jer doesn't listen to Phil. If anything, he slows down, starts to fuck Phil with shallow, short movements that are just making the itch inside Phil grow even more. 

"Jer, c'mon," Phil whines, his dick starting to fill out again, bobbing around. 

“If you want faster, then go faster,” Jer says, not stopping those slow, maddening thrusts for a second.

Jer slides his hands down Phil's thighs, finally allowing Phil to do what he needs, to pick himself and drop back down on Jer's dick with a loud moan.

"That's it," Jer encourages over the sound of Phil's ass slapping against Jer's skin as Phil finally gets to pick up some speed. 

An ache is building in Phil’s thighs and there’s this pain in the top of his calf but it's not enough to make Phil stop, nothing is. Without warning, Jer plants his feet and shifts his legs, changing the angle and giving Phil more support, something better to fuck against. 

Every time Jer bottoms out now, he's brushing Phil's prostate, and Phil lets out a sob, broken and desperate. There’s tears clinging to his lashes, and he's hard again already, and it hurts for it to happen so quick, but it feels good. It’s too good, it’s too much, it feels like Phil’s gone past the edge already, shaking and overstimulated. Phil wants to stay here with Jer in his bed forever. 

Jer looks dazed, in awe, like Phil’s doing the most incredible things. He traces Phil’s shaft with his fingers, then takes Phil in hand and smirks at the loud cry Phil makes, the jerk of his hips. Actually, Jer might be smiling, Phil can’t tell, he’s too busy trying to grind down on Jer’s dick and into Jer’s hand at the same time. 

“That’s it, baby,” Jer mutters, starting to stroke Phil’s dick. “You look so good, so pretty.” Phil squeezes his eyes shut, forces out a few more tears, adding to his already wet cheeks as he slams down without restraint, moans rising louder and louder each time Jer meets him. 

“C’mon baby, come for me, c’mon.” Phil comes on a sudden wail, toes curling, burning hot shocks firing right to the tips of his limbs, because he had to, because Jer asked him to. Things go a little hazy after that, Phil’s barely aware of Jer shoving into him until he comes, burying himself deep when he does, forcing a final wet moan out of Phil and him over into the mess he made of Jer's stomach.

Phil's still taking in gulps of air to get his heart rate to go somewhere back to normal. This still doesn't feel completely real despite the ache everywhere in his body.

“Wow,” Jer says eventually. Phil agrees with the sentiment, giggles a little, mostly from the fact he still feels like his limbs aren’t properly attached, like he’s the human version of Rayman. 

Eventually, Phil sits up, lifts himself off Jer, swallows any whine about the sudden emptiness and collapses onto bed beside him. 

There’s ideas forming in Phil’s head, about whether birthday sex includes showers or not. He can’t get them out though, Jer’s away and back with the same washcloth from before before Phil is able to make words work again.

Jer wraps them in a heap of blankets and slides under them to cuddle Phil.

“Want a cupcake?” Jer asks. 

“Just sleep, I think,” Phil says, before resettling under the covers. Jer is spooning him, his curls soft against the back of Phil’s neck, and it’s been such a perfect day, and it stays perfect. Jer orders them in a pizza, answers the door for it, they go again once they're done eating and then watch a couple of episodes of The Office just to pass the time until it's late enough to go to sleep.

There's nothing more Phil could have asked for. Getting to spend all day with Jer, have Jer fall asleep in his arms, chest gently rising and eyelashes dark against his cheeks. 

Phil thinks he’s going to ask Jer, when they wake up, to go to breakfast, but as a real date this time.

Now, for the first time, Phil believes that Jer's going to say yes. 

*

Jer isn't there when Phil wakes up. There's no note, no message on his phone. The space next to him feels cold. 

Phil waits, and waits, but no message appears from Jer and Jer doesn't come back in with breakfast in hand.

Phil waits before he sends Jer a message asking where he is, if something turned up. Jer never responds to it, and that kills whatever hope Phil had left that any of this actually means anything outside the walls of Phil's bedroom. That Phil actually means something to Jer. 

Phil cries until the sky turns dark and he has no more tears left to shed. 

**Author's Note:**

> the second half should be up by the end of the week!! we just needed a little more to finish it off
> 
> we hope you enjoyed the first chapter <3


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